


Bad Luck

by ayveex3



Category: On My Block (TV)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger, Angst, Cheating, Domestic Violence, F/M, Gangs, Gen, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Love/Hate, Romance, Sexual Content, Smoking, Teenagers, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-11 10:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20544545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayveex3/pseuds/ayveex3
Summary: Sylvia Martinez returns to Freeridge and finds herself face to face with her ex from 4 years ago; Spooky. She now has to learn how to balance her present with her past, and determine a future for herself, with or without him.





	1. Chapter 1

There was a house party in the neighborhood tonight, surprisingly not run by the Santos for once. Cesar said they would be too busy with their own matters to care about someone other than them running it. Ruby and his friends begged me a few days ago, asking if I could come because my aunt, Ruby's mom, said they couldn't unless they had a chaperone. I'd only been in Freeridge for all of 3 days before this was brought up to me. What sounded more appealing was staying home and watching my list of shows on a Saturday night but here I was washing dishes, still putting up with Ruby.

"Please, Sylvia," Ruby had begged, using his puppy dog eyes to win me over. "Everyone from school is going to come, and how else can I impress the ladies outside of the classroom?"

"Why would I want to go waste my time at a house party watching a bunch of high schoolers?" I had grumbled, washing the dishes. Now that I was done with college, I had moved back to Freeridge to give back to my community. I wanted to work with troubled juveniles to get them on the right track in life. I didn't want them to end up in a gang, homeless, or on drugs. I had seen enough of that growing up here. Had lost too many to that way of life. So here I was, trying to fix it and make a difference. Never thought I'd end up back here again, but figured it was a start.

"Because," he drawled out. "There won't only be high schoolers there. It's a house party for all ages. Plus, there will be alcohol and boys you can talk to, and friends you can make."

"You say that like I don't have any."

Shrugging, Ruby goes, "If the shoe fits…"

I splash dishwater at him that he skillfully dodges. Later that afternoon, he had invited Jamal, Monse, and Cesar over to further convince me into going.

"It'll be fun," Cesar smiled at me. Oscar's younger but now not-so-little brother. Thinking of Oscar brings back some bad memories of when we had dated in high school, before he got locked up. Cesar was so young that I wonder exactly how much he remembered of Oscar getting into some trouble. The nights he disappeared while I stuck around to babysit. I shake my head.

"You guys can't all seriously be wanting to go, can you?" I look toward Monse, the one who usually has my back on decisions like this. Unfortunately, while I was away, Monse had been getting acquainted with Cesar. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder as they both leaned back on the loveseat. My chances of not going have dropped significantly.

Monse shrugged apologetically. "I think it'll be more fun than a Santos party, definitely."

"I second that," Jamal piped in. "We've been so busy with homework that there hasn't been any time for fun. Well… Unless you count that time when we-"

"Anyway!" Ruby slapped a hand on Jamal's mouth. "Sylvia, this house party will be like nothing we've ever been to before. First, it'll be safe, considering there won't be any Santos or gang members. Second, it won't be in a nice, rich neighborhood where cultural appropriation and blatant disrespect to our heritage would occur. Third, it IS a house party for anyone of all ages to come to which means nothing too crazy could happen, and things won't get out of hand. Fourth-"

"Okay, enough already!" I had yelled, annoyed by Ruby's mouth running. Rubbing my temples, I told them, "We'll go tonight, but no trying to hook me up with bum ass Freeridge boys." I glared at each one of them. They smiled at me sweetly, satisfied at having won me over.

Later that night, we were all dressed up, ready to go. I had helped Monse with her hair and outfit, due to the fact she didn't have many female friends. My long, black hair was curled in soft waves and my tight, black dress was a little too short, just reaching the middle of my thighs. I wore an oversized jacket to cover up some skin, remembering this was a party of all ages. I'd be damned if some high schooler started hitting on me.

The party was active when we showed up, the group immediately leaving me behind to entertain myself. Ruby was right though, there were people my age here as well as teenagers from their high school. No sign of any Santos or Prophets here. The lights were dimmed in whoever's house this was and people flooded from inside the house to outside into the yard. I sat by myself at the dining table, sipping on coke and rum.

"Hey girrrrl," an obnoxious high schooler wrapped her arm around me. I almost spilled my drink on the table, setting it down abruptly.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"The name's Jasmine. I'm going to be your future cousin-in-law." She introduced herself with a flamboyant wave, and I cracked a slight smile at her dramatics. "And you're Sylvia Martinez, Ruby's older cousin who went to college to major in Criminal Justice. Dated a Santos back in your younger days, and is now living a lonely life, waiting for one of these boys to talk to you."

"How did you…?"

"Drink up!" She placed three shots of tequila down in front of me. "Because sitting here by your lonesome getting buzzed is NOT going to get your hoo-hah dipped in, you feel?"

"I don't think I want that to happen," I stated, eyeing the shots. I knew better than to question how a 15 year old girl got a hold of all that alcohol. I just hope they're not all for me.

"Please, you know how hard it took for me to yank this bottle away from one of these alcoholics?" She holds up the rest of the bottle of tequila. "I'm doing you a favor, homegirl."

"Definitely not your homegirl," I shook my head. But I mean, she had a point. Not about the boys, but about sitting here by myself, not talking to anybody. "Here goes nothing," I said, as I tipped my head back for the first shot.

Three shots and a bottle of tequila in hand later, I was dancing drunk in a group of people, vision blurry, jacket nowhere to be found, when a commotion started at the door.

"The Santos are here!" somebody yelled, a few frightened heads turning to look. Most of the high schoolers bolted, leaving those of us who were either too intoxicated to care, or old enough to not actually fear anything. There was still a good amount of people and we continued to dance, unphased.

Someone grabbed my arm. "Hey Sylvia, maybe we should go." It was Jamal. I'd recognize that worried expression from anywhere. "It doesn't seem to be safe anymore, you were right."

"What?" I shouted over the music. "The night's only just begun!" I smile a little too sloppily and open.

"You have been dancing for the past hour already! And what is this?" Jamal reaches for the bottle in my hand, but I pull away playfully, holding it possessively against my chest. "Aren't you supposed to be our chaperone?"

I giggle and turn away as if I didn't hear him. Suddenly, I face against someone's broad chest wearing a gray t-shirt.

"You drunk, mamí?" His deep voice rumbled against my skin, and I felt goosebumps rise, memories resurfacing from my high school days. It's been four years since we've seen each other, since our breakup, but it feels like I never left Freeridge. I look up into his deep, brown eyes. He doesn't have hair anymore, having chosen to shave it off. His lips are still full, and not much has changed about his image except he's taller, and maybe more muscular now. It feels like my heart is going to fall out of my chest.

"Eep," I heard Jamal squeak out. "We were just about to leave, we didn't mean to replace your Santos fiestas, feel free to take over…!"

He looked over at Jamal, with a brow raised. "I wasn't talking to you."

"You're right," Jamal let out a nervous laugh. "Sylvia, I'll see you back at home, yeah?" With that, he scurries away like a mouse.

"Oscar," I slur.

"It's Spooky now."

He wraps his arms around my waist to pull me in, swiftly taking the bottle out of my hand. Smooth. "Hey, that was mine."

"It's mine now," he says. Looking intensely at me with his dark eyes, he takes a giant swig straight from the bottle and hands it off to someone else.

"You're a dick," I mutter, as if no time at all has passed between us. He chuckles, only holding me tighter against him so that we're both swaying to the music together. His hands move so that they're resting just above the curve of my ass. I resist the urge to shiver. My hands are around his neck. I'm not quite sure what I'm doing, but I know it shouldn't be this.

"Still as fine as ever," he mutters, looking me up and down. I roll my eyes.

"Do you remember me, or have you slept with too many hynas to remember me, Spooky?" I ask sarcastically, but still curious. I hope I asked that confidently, and not like a drunk mess. Most likely the latter.

"Damn," he chuckles. "That's the first thing you want to ask me?"

I'm still waiting for an answer when he swoops down to gently suck on the left side of my neck, at a specifically sensitive spot. I arch my back against him instinctively and he pulls away, no doubt leaving a slight mark behind.

"That answer your question?"

I nod, my face flushing red at how bold he is and how much I liked it.

"Come on," he whispers into my ear. "Let's go somewhere quiet."

Pulling my hand, he leads us upstairs to the bedrooms. We pass by Monse and Cesar who look a little too ruffled up and disheveled.

"Oscar?" Cesar asks, wide eyed. "What are you doing here?"

Monse and Cesar are holding hands and they both look at me in my drunken state.

"Finished business early tonight," Oscar simply replies, raising a brow at Cesar.

"Is she okay?" Monse asks, referring to me. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Enough," I reply. I blink rapidly, the tequila hitting harder than expected. I want to fall asleep right now, but I'm also insanely turned on from the move Oscar pulled earlier. A small voice in the back of my head wonders why he would do that, but the alcohol suppresses logic. My emotions were running high tonight.

"It's getting late. We were just about to get you, so we could head out," Cesar says. "We just need to find Ruby and Jamal downstairs."

I wave a hand at them. "Go on home without me."

Cesar looks at me incredulously, exchanging looks with Monse. "Uh, I don't know about that. Ruby's mom kindof expected you to be with us."

"Lie," I mumble, the alcohol numbing my common sense. "Get Ruby and Jamal and spend the night at Monse's place. Have a little sleepover, and we can all go home tomorrow morning together."

Monse is hesitant. "Will you be okay getting to my house?"

"I'll drop her off," Oscar states. "She'll be safe with me."

Monse and Cesar exchange another look but don't question him. They turn away and head downstairs.

Oscar finds an empty bedroom which looks like a guest room and locks the door behind us. Almost immediately, he has me against the wall, hands all over my body, thighs, hips, and mouth against mine. He moves against me hungrily, and I reciprocate. As drunk as I am, I still remember the feel of him, his scent, how natural our bodies mesh together. Something about the way he touches me has me craving more, like a toxic addiction. We hadn't been in contact for 4 years, and I heard from the block that he just got out about 9 months ago. He could have called me, the thought nagged.

"I've missed you, mamí," he breathes against my neck, and the thought disappears for now. I sigh against him, feeling his shoulders and chest.

"You ain't ever call me when you got out, so I thought you forgot about me," I gasp, feeling his lips graze against my collarbone. His hands are travelling up my thighs, squeezing them.

"I couldn't forget about you; you were mi primer amor."

The truth is, I'm still bitter from our breakup. We were steady for two years before he called it quits. All that effort, time, and empty promises just thrown away like it was nothing. We were more than a high school relationship. I felt it, he had felt it too. All the long nights talking about putting a ring on me, and doing things right, and starting a family. The hell were we doing now? As much pleasure as he's giving me, I haven't forgotten our history. "Am I just a quick fuck for you now?"

Oscar stops mid-kiss to say, "You can be more, if you want, princesa." His tone has me almost convinced it can happen.

Feeling the tears well up in my eyes at why we broke up, I pull his face towards mine, and we continue to kiss passionately. His full lips move against mine, and I push down the feeling of heartache, allowing desire to take over. I just want to wash away the hurt he gave me, but I highly doubt this is the way to do it. The only person who can take away the feeling of pain is the one who inflicts it, right? Oscar's hands find my lower regions and he whistles low at how turned on I am.

"Fuck, I just wanna be inside you already."

He moves his face down to the area between my legs when he feels the first teardrop fall on his forehead.

I turn my face away, and bite my lip trying to hold back the tears. I don't want to just be a hit it and quit it tonight. I had wanted more with Oscar. This is our first time meeting since we broke up. This isn't how I'd imagined it. I imagined it as a sweeter reunion, not us about to fuck in some random person's house. But then again, it IS Oscar. What did I expect? A deeper thought nags at me.

"Sylvia."

I don't face him, but I know he's standing up now. It's the first time he's said my name all night.

"Look at me."

When I don't, he takes his hand to cup my chin and turns me toward him. My tears are falling freely now, and he wipes it away with his thumb.

"We don't gotta do anything tonight. We can go downstairs, relax, chill out. I don't want you feeling pressured." Almost as an afterthought, he says, "We can take things slow. How long you been back for?"

My breath hitches. "T-That's not it, Oscar."

His brow furrows, confused. "Then what are you crying for?"

I take a deep breath in. There were a lot of things that were overwhelming me, but this, at least, I had to get out there;

"I actually have a boyfriend."


	2. Chapter 2

"If you got a boyfriend, then what'd you kiss me for?"

Oscar and I were sitting in his car in front of his old house at 3 AM. The drive from the house party to his place was quiet and we were both thinking of things beyond the situation. The rest of his Santos crew were still partying back at that house, but Oscar and I needed to have this conversation. No matter how much I wanted to pretend like the past 4 years didn't happen, there was no putting off our inevitable "catching up" session. We were different people now, our experiences having changed us. We grew in opposite directions, and there wasn't enough time to fit in the words we wanted to say to each other.

"I don't know. I was drunk. Why'd you kiss me?"

"Because I missed you," he said, looking right at me. I held his gaze.

"Yeah, right. You didn't even know I was gonna be there. I could have just been any girl there that you could have grabbed."

Oscar kept looking at me, gauging my reaction. "Could have. But it was you."

"You're so full of shit, you know that?"

I turn away sharply, messing with the bottom of my dress. I didn't want to think about Oscar in the years that I was gone, away at college, probably fucking other girls the moment he was out of prison. It's human nature. Made my blood boil that he ain't ever wanted to pick up the phone just to call me, see how I was doing. Honestly, I probably could have tried calling, but I wasn't the one who broke things off. It's not my place to call unless I wanted to look like even more of a fool. Not to mention, I currently have a steady boyfriend of two years. In a couple of months, he would be visiting me here in Freeridge once he got done with his program at the police academy. Interesting how I moved from a thug to someone who wanted to be a cop. I almost laughed at the realization.

Oscar started smoking, making sure to roll the windows down so I wouldn't completely be smothered in smoke. Back when we dated, I was so accustomed to it but now I'm resisting the urge to cough. I don't smoke. Not now, and not back then. I didn't see the point in it. I used to always wonder why Oscar liked a girl like me. In high school, I was active in sports and clubs because I wanted to go to a university and make something of myself. My mom, when she was still in the U.S., cried when I got accepted. My dad didn't live long enough to see me make it to high school. Since his passing, my mom decided to leave me with my cousin's family, Ruby. She needed to be with her close family, and they weren't living in the U.S. I struggled being away from my mom, but I knew it was the choice she needed to make in order to heal. And being here was the choice I needed to make to have a better future.

Until dating Oscar in high school nearly threw me off the path I was on.

"What's he like?"

I was so lost in my thoughts that his question threw me off guard. "Who?"

"Your novio."

Not wanting to answer immediately, I glance at Oscar to try and read his emotions. Stoic expression. He's looking straight ahead, still smoking. I pause, thinking of how to describe my boyfriend.

"He's responsible," I say, looking at Oscar again. No reaction. "He comes from a good home. He's ambitious. He wants to be a cop."

Oscar raised a brow, amused, and shook his head.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he replies, with that amused smirk on his face. I know he's judging him for wanting to be a cop. He doesn't even have to say it. That's 90% of the response given in Freeridge at the mention of someone actually wanting to be one of them, a cop. "He treatin' you right?"

"So far," I mutter. "He's a good guy. He takes care of me and I can count on him."

He nods, almost like he's approving of my boyfriend. As if I needed my ex being the judge of that. "Why cheat on him then?"

"I didn't-" Cheat on him, is what I instantly wanted to say. My face flushed red. Technically, I did. Resting my head on the dashboard, I answer, "I don't know, Oscar. Why do people make the mistakes they do?"

"You callin' what we did tonight a mistake? I'm hurt, ma." He made it sound like he was joking, but the tension in his jaw said something else. Something I couldn't quite place, given the years between us.

"Why do you keep asking about him anyway? What's it matter to you?"

Oscar rubbed his chin, contemplating how he's going to answer. "Matters because believe it or not, I still care about you."

"Bullshit."

"Look, if I didn't care, I wouldn't have asked."

The alcohol was coming down in my system, and this topic was speeding up the sobering process. Not a conversation I necessarily wanted to have right now; it was too depressing. "Is that why you ghosted me the moment I left Freeridge? Oscar, you didn't speak to me for four years. Not a text, not a call, nada."

The hurt that I had suppressed was beginning to rise to the surface and I didn't want to cry again. I didn't want him to know how heartbroken I still was, but with Oscar things felt different. I was supposed to come off as independent and strong. Off to do bigger and better things. But there was something about him that made me want to wear my heart on my sleeve, and open up. I felt vulnerable with him, and I hated it. He didn't deserve my vulnerability.

"I was locked up." His eyes were faraway now, thinking of the real reason why he didn't want me anymore.

Clenching my fists, I said, "You weren't locked up the past 8 months. Don't be giving me excuses. You think I'm stupid?"

After Oscar had been put behind bars, I insisted on visiting him and making phone calls to him. But he had broken up with me through the window in the prison facility, and when I came back to see him, he refused to see me. I didn't understand what I was doing wrong. I stayed by his side when he was locked up, I was loyal. But instead, he pushed me away like I was some kind of disease. He didn't want anything to do with me, he didn't even try to keep in contact. He just let me go, and I spent a lot of nights crying in the dorms that first year. Everything reminded me of him, and I missed home a lot.

"Sylvia, you know I couldn't hold you back. Not with your whole life ahead of you."

"That wasn't your choice to make. If you still wanted to be with me, we could have made it work like we always did."

He shook his head. "I couldn't see you suffering on the other side of that window, waiting for me to get out. You needed to focus on your school, make somethin' of yourself. And I didn't have the heart to call you after I got out. Didn't want you runnin' back home just for me. Woulda missed the whole point of what I did."

Irritation shot through my body. I had loved him. I loved Oscar so much back then. He was mi familia. I was his ride or die. With our parents gone, we only had each other to confide in and have each other's backs. I'd thought the feeling was mutual.

I opened my mouth to counter what he said, but it felt like something was stuck in my throat. It's that choked up feeling people get when they want to cry, but still want to be angry enough to say something. I try to swallow it down, but the lump is still there, and I look out the window at his house instead. There's no denying what Oscar was saying was right. It's just, deep down, I didn't want things to have been that way. Would I have come running back? Maybe not completely, but there was a high chance that if Oscar needed me back home, I would have dropped everything. I would have ended up just like them other girls dating a gang member, and I didn't like the fact that he may have been right about us not being together. Who wants to hear that shit?

Oscar sighed deeply beside me, growing frustrated with my emotions. "Look, what's done is done. You need to move on from that, it was 4 years ago. You're doing things now, you got yourself a degree and a boyfriend. Look at me. I'm still doing the same shit I been doing."

"You know I loved you, right? If you wanted to be with just another hyna who wasn't gonna stick around, then you shouldn't have wasted time with me," I said. I always thought Oscar had sincerely loved me, at least more than the girls he screwed around with before we dated. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe I ended up being another name on the list. Maybe I was the one holding him back then, with all our talk of moving in together and being committed. Can't hold a Santos member down. What was I wishing for?

"Why do you gotta say it like that? You know they meant nothing to me." His voice was slowly rising as his agitation grew.

"Because it was too easy for you to cut me off. How could you do me dirty like that?" The emotional dam had broken and though I had tears running down my face, I refused to look back at him. I was pissed off and hurt.

"Fuck you want me to do? I can't fuckin' travel through time, woman."

"No, but you could at least give a shit, Oscar!"

Oscar's anger was instant. He started yelling at me. "You got yourself a fucking boyfriend! Why do you still give a fuck about me for? Move on with your life!"

My breath hitched. It felt like a slap to the face because I obviously still cared, and he didn't. Why was I holding on for anyway? I don't know exactly. But the main reason it made me angry is because he was all over me just hours ago, and now he's shrugging me off like I'm some random hyna he just met.

"So, I really was just a hook up for you tonight, huh?"

"What the hell are you on about now?" Oscar was angry and frustrated. He hated bringing up old shit that couldn't be fixed.

"You kissed me first at the party!"

"That was before I knew you were seeing someone else!"

"It wouldn't have made a difference to you either way, a fuck's a fuck." I was fuming and being petty, but I couldn't stop myself.

"You think I'm that shallow? Hey, I'm not the one with a boyfriend. I ain't screwing nobody over."

I paused for a hot second, hand prepared to swing the car door open. "Go fuck yourself, Oscar."

Pushing the car door wide open, I slammed it shut behind me hoping to irrationally break something. He didn't try to say anything, or even come after me. It wasn't too dark out being closer to 5 AM now. Wiping my tears away, I sped walk towards the block Monse's house is on because I couldn't stand to be driven by Spooky.


	3. Chapter 3

Reaching Monse's house, I banged on the door. Hard. I expected all of these kids to be fast asleep, but I should have known better.

The door swung open before I could knock again. "Where the hell have you been?!"

"Ruby," I state, in greeting. I shove my way past him to the sofa where Jamal was up playing games.

"My mom has been calling me all night asking to speak to you," Ruby exclaimed. "I had to lie and tell her that you've been on the toilet. All night. Because you had food poisoning from the party. We even played audio of a person throwing up in the toilet just to get her to stop calling!"

I sat beside Jamal, grabbing some of the blanket he was underneath to cover me. He gave me side eyes until he noticed something was off.

Pausing the game, he goes, "So did Cesar's brother not drop you off?"

"Nope."

"So… You walked all the way here then?"

"No, I took a fucking plane."

"Language," Jamal emphasized, scolding me. "What happened between you two? I thought y'all were cool."

From my peripheral vision, I could see Ruby making 'cut it out' gestures at Jamal. Ruby was there when Oscar cut me out of his life. Ruby was also there when Mario got dumped by his ex-girlfriend too. He got the front row seat to what heartbreak looks like. Twice.

I turned slowly to look at the two boys meaningfully. They both stopped gesturing and making faces at each other, feigning innocence while they listened to what I had to say.

"I don't want anything to do with Spooky. I don't want to go to another house party. I don't even want to talk about him or hear about him. Got it?" I made sure to sound threatening, so they wouldn't even dare.

They both nodded, afraid of me potentially snapping at them. I looked around the room, but it was just us. "Where's Monse and Cesar?"

"Upstairs," Ruby answered promptly. "They went to bed about 30 minutes before you got here, about the time when mom stopped calling. Cesar figured there was no need to worry about you because you were with Spooky, but Monse was still reasonably concerned."

"Because I mean, it's still Spooky," Jamal murmured, resuming his game. Ruby finally sat down on the other side of Jamal, settling down. Whenever Ruby was worked up, he had to pace and move around. This meant that his brief lecture was over. For now.

We watched Jamal play his game quietly, and eventually my eyes got tired until I finally closed them and fell fast asleep.

My eyes flew open in what felt like an eternity later. My head was pounding, and the amount of tequila last night was catching up to me. As was the conversation in the car with Oscar. Ugh, Oscar. Spooky now. There was a bitter taste in my mouth.

It was oddly quiet. Ruby and Jamal were both missing.

"Are you awake now?" Monse's soft voice came from the doorway to the bedrooms. I wonder if Cesar was still here.

"Yeah," I replied. My body ached. Sheepishly, I asked, "What time is it?"

Her eyes darted toward the clock by the TV stand. "Two in the afternoon. You've been knocked out dead for like, hours."

Sighing, I said, "Long night."

"Did you need anything? Water, a snack?"

"Some water would be nice."

After retrieving a cup of water from the kitchen, she came to sit beside me on the couch. Her arms were crossed against her chest and she gave me that look of disapproving concern she often wore on her face, long after I finished downing the cup. This girl is only 15 years old but that look would send fear running through someone on the opposing end if they didn't know her any better.

"What?" I laughed.

"I want to ask but at the same time, Ruby and Jamal told me you didn't want to talk or hear about it, so I won't."

Whatever question she had was making her anxious and the way Monse is, she wouldn't get it off her chest until actually talking about it. I sighed heavily. "Okay. We can talk about it."

"Did you and Cesar's brother hook up last night?"

Damn, this girl is straightforward.

"No," I shook my head. "We didn't."

Her shoulders dropped, and her arms loosened, visibly relaxing. "Okay. Good. I was scared because you were drunk out of your mind and because Ruby told me you were still dating someone. I guess I just didn't want something bad to happen, or for you to have been taken advantage of, or I don't know."

Everybody knew I had a boyfriend of two years. Except Spooky, that is. During holidays, Alejandro, Alex for short, even came a few times and was introduced to everyone. Being good with kids, working out nearly every day, and becoming a police officer despite being Latino made a good impression on the family. Abuelita always asked about him, and even mi tía adored him, asking for more pictures of us. My mom preferred a good influence over a bad one any day, as well. After having dated Oscar, it seemed as though I ran in the exact opposite direction of who I wanted to date. Anyone that wouldn't remind me of Oscar.

The only person in the squad who wasn't a huge fan of Alex was Cesar. Having only met him one time, Cesar never really came around anytime Alex was in town. I suppose it was different for him when he was younger, seeing Oscar and I date for almost two years in high school. When we broke up, Cesar talked to me less and less and didn't even see me off to college. We used to be really close, but I suppose me leaving made him feel even more alone, especially when Oscar was in prison.

Though upon returning to Freeridge since this last week, Cesar seemed to have warmed up to me again. I was here to stay, and if we could leave the past behind and move on with our friendship still intact, I was willing.

"Where is Cesar?"

"He left earlier," Monse answered. "Everybody went home, except for you."

"Shit. Is Ruby's mom mad?"

"Probably but knowing Ruby he'll just talk both your guys' way out of it. She heard you had food poisoning last night so hopefully it's enough reason to be here recovering."

I wanted to cry. My kids are so grown up now, fabricating their own stories to get out of trouble. But this time, it was believable, unlike the stories they made up when they were 10 years old.

Almost too grown up, I think, remembering Cesar and Monse last night looking a little too disheveled at the party. "So… How are you and Cesar?"

"What? Cesar? He's fine," she answered quickly. Her eyes darted around the room, a sign of being nervous.

"You guys are using protection, right?"

"Oh my god." Monse's eyes grew wide and she was looking anywhere but at me.

Laughing, I tell her, "Relax, I'm kidding, but also not kidding. You two are openly dating, right? It's not something being kept lowkey?

"No, we're openly dating. It's a little hard though, because we're trying to get him out of the Santos gang life. He thinks it's his destiny, but it's really not. He has a choice."

I nod, agreeing with her. I remember countless arguments with Oscar about having a choice but nothing would stop him. She continues, "He's scared because he doesn't want me to get involved with danger. But I don't want him in danger either, I know he's smarter than this. Sometimes it hurts when he shuts me out or tells me he's got it handled, when really, he doesn't."

It's nice to see that it runs through the line of Diaz brothers. Oscar was the same way with me.

"That's tough," I say. "I wish Cesar didn't feel like he needs to live this type of life."

Though maybe it was my fault for not sticking around for him. Mentally, I shake the thought away. Cesar wasn't my responsibility, not my kid. But it sure feels like he was mine, with Oscar being put away. The guilt weighed heavy on me.

Monse chewed her bottom lip. "It always feels like he's got to prove something to his brother. But he doesn't have to prove anything."

Oscar has a lot of love for Cesar, it's always been that way. Cesar was damn spoiled growing up, being given everything by Oscar. The dynamic between them must have changed with Cesar being older and Oscar being changed by prison life. I should talk to Cesar, maybe on persuading him out of the gang and finding resources for him. Just because I couldn't save one Diaz brother doesn't mean that I can't save the other. He's still a kid. Oscar knows this, he knows the difficulties involved, so why is he forcing this life on his brother? He should be trying to help him.

"I'll try to talk to him," I tell her. She smiles at me, if a little hopeless. And in my heart, I can already tell this is going to just be another one of mine and Oscar's disagreements.


	4. Chapter 4

If I thought I was off the hook for even a second, I was mistaken. Ruby's mom chewed both Ruby and me out for hours when I had finally come home. Ruby couldn't even get a word in. She must have been holding back until I showed up. It didn't matter that I was 21 years old, close to 22. This was her household and anything under her roof was under her control.

The next few days I spent involved the smell of bleach, a vacuum, and sore arms. Ruby was lucky to have school as an escape while I stayed home cleaning for forgiveness for the both of us. I wish I had work as an excuse to leave. But the training for my position didn't start until October. It was only May.

Abuelita shuffled into the living room from the garage. "Hey, when's that boy of yours coming to visit us again?"

"I already told you," I called out from the kitchen. "He'll be here sometime in July."

She made a pleased sound, and I rolled my eyes. "You are so very lucky. If I was in your shoes, I'd put a ring on him instantly!"

"We're not there yet, and I don't know if we'll ever be," I reply, tying the string closed on the trash tight. Pulling it out of the trashcan, I lug the trash bag against my hip to the front door.

"¿Por qué? I thought you loved him." She was flipping through the channels on the TV and I stopped, placing the trash bag down to rest my arms.

"I think I do," I say, unsure. After what happened with Oscar at the party, it left me feeling a mix of guilt and confusion. Missing Oscar, I can't deny. Not with the way I responded so easily to him. I wanted to convince myself it was the alcohol giving in to his touch, but the thought of him lingered since then, even while sober. I've also hardly responded to any of Alex's texts lately, telling him that I was in deep shit for getting too drunk and not coming home on time with Ruby. A half-truth.

Abuelita mutes the TV and puts the remote down, looking at me like I'm one of her telenovelas. "You think?"

She wants the scoop and I wasn't sure about sharing that story with her yet. Not if I wanted everyone in the neighborhood to find out.

"It's nothing. I should really take this bag out before it starts to stink up the living room."

After dumping the trash and refilling the trash can with a new bag, Abuelita signaled me over. "Mija, will you run to the store and buy me some snacks?"

"Snacks? Can Ruby do it for you when he gets out of school? I've been cleaning all day, I don't want to walk."

"I'll let you borrow my car," Abuelita persuaded. It worked. I held my hand out for the keys, which she was dangling in front of me. "On one condition."

Pulling my hand back and realizing what game she was playing, I narrowed my eyes at her.

"You settle whatever it is here in Freeridge you have to settle before going back to Alejandro." Her brows were raised, knowingly.

"Uh, okay?"

"Why do you think I never got married, huh? Old flames are hard to put out, especially in this kind of community. I got in a lot of trouble when I was your age with men." She winked at me.

"Okay, but how many flames did you have to put out because I can understand if it was one or two but…"

Abuelita swiped at me, and I moved away, laughing. "Go," she insisted, throwing the keys at me. "Go before I change my mind."

Driving felt like freedom. I don't have the money to buy my own car yet, but I didn't expect to go anywhere major this summer. Plus, it wasn't like I didn't know how to take the bus around town. Bus rides were too cramped, the sweat from the others mingling with my own. Fights breaking out from this summer heat had me wanting to walk places instead. Not like the safety of walking was any better but at least there'd be more space.

Arriving at the local convenience store, my basket was filled to the top with snacks for both Abuelita and I. I was debating between what candy to get when I sensed someone come up from behind me.

"That all for you?"

I turned around and was face to face with Spooky. It'd been a few days since that talk in the car, when I slammed his door shut crying. Keeping my expression neutral, I go, "Yeah. What's it to you?"

He chuckled, and I frowned. He was acting like our last conversation didn't happen. "Nothin', ma. If you're that hungry, I could cook for you."

"You'd cook for me?" When dating Oscar in high school, he always tried out different recipes for me to taste. I didn't know he still had a passion for cooking. Knew even less why he brought it up now. Seemed like an unusual thing to offer.

"Sure. Come over tonight for dinner."

Questioning his motives still, I went to go pay for my stuff while he trailed behind me. All he bought was a coke and a pack of cigarettes. Standing by our cars, I asked, "Why are you willing to cook for me?"

Lighting a cigarette, he replied, "Why not?"

"You're acting like that conversation in the car never happened."

"I ain't acting like nothing. You either come or you don't."

Oscar's barely changed over the years when it comes to apologizing. He'd always been quiet about it, catching me off guard anytime he pissed me off. And I always accepted his apologies, having adored his kindness compared to his other friends and the way they handled their relationships. Which generally meant, not handling them. I smiled at him, and his eyes trailed down to my lips, lingering. My pulse sped up, suddenly remembering the hungry way his lips moved against mine that night. Internally shaking my head, I go, "Yeah, I'll come."

"I'll swing by and get you." Blowing smoke out, he didn't wait for me to say anything, heading straight to his car and leaving.

________________________________________

Later that evening, I was in my room debating what to wear when Ruby appeared at my doorway with an expression I know all too well.

"We need to talk."

"Wait," I stop him, holding up two tops. "Which one would go best with these shorts?"

"I like the dull, orange top better because you can always tie the bottom into a knot. Makes you look more sophisticated. The white crop makes you look like you put out easier. What's the occasion?"

Throwing the white crop top into my laundry basket, I answer, "Going over to Spooky's tonight because he's making me dinner."

Ruby wore a disappointed expression. "And that is exactly why we need to talk."

Changing into the top, he looked away respectfully. "I thought I told you I didn't want to talk or hear about him."

"That condition became invalid the moment you said you were going over to his house for dinner."

"You came in here wanting to talk about him before I even told you that!"

"And it's a good thing you told me because now my conscious can feel less remorse for bringing him up first!"

Glancing at the time, I ask, "Can we talk about this later? He's going to be here in like, 5 minutes."

"Here? He's coming here?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yeah, so spit it out before he gets here." I fluffed my soft curls around my shoulders, so they wouldn't look flat.

"Okay, well, I feel like hanging around Spooky isn't good for you. I respect that it's your friendship and you can technically do whatever you want but I'm just giving you my own advice. I don't know what happened that night at the party," he held a hand up to stop me as I opened my mouth to clarify, "But I don't really want to know nor is it any of my business. What I do know is that you and Alex are still dating, and I think it would be unfair for him to not know because he's a really good guy and I don't want you to mess up a really good thing going for you."

Exhaling at the rush of words, I state, "Oscar and I didn't sleep together that night."

"You didn't?" I shook my head, and Ruby looked slightly relieved. "Well, I still feel like Spooky isn't really good to hang around with being part of the Santos and all."

"Thanks for the concern, Ruby. Really," I smile at him genuinely. He smiled back. "But that's not going to stop me from seeing him tonight."

"Sylvia!" Ruby said, exasperated. I hopped up from my bed, laughing.

"It's fine, Ruby! Oscar and I are just friends now. No hurt feelings."

With that being said, I nearly ran out of the house. I didn't miss the way Abuelita shook her head after me, and briefly, maybe Ruby had a point.

Oscar was right on time and I practically jumped into the passenger side. Looking me up and down, Oscar says, "Excited to see me?"

"Just excited for a free meal," I smile sweetly at him.

Upon making it to Oscar's place, it was different seeing his house from the outside versus the inside. The inside of the house still looked and felt the same no matter how much time had passed. Sure, it was a little bit dirtier now that they were older and definitely throwing a lot more parties/kickbacks here, but the vibe of the room was the same. It brought me back to studying schoolwork in the living room, and distracting kisses, and wandering hands. Cleaning him up from his little street fights, blood staining the couch, him holding me tightly, not wanting to let go of his straight A's, and culinary dreams. A chance to live a better life. Seeing the same bloodstain on the couch from way back when only proved to me that I wasn't around to help change that. That maybe some things really do stay stuck in the past, unable to break free of that cycle.

We settled into the kitchen like old times and I watched him cook. I always admired seeing Oscar cook. Many times, he explained to me how food connected and brought people together. Food was always the link to home. He moved expertly with his hands and for a second, I imagined those same hands running along my body at the party. I flushed, and to distract myself from irrational thoughts, asked, "So what are you making me?"

"Steak," he replied, without turning around. It was already beginning to smell delicious.

"That's fancy."

He chuckled. "Thought it would work for an apology."

"Apology for what exactly?"

Turning to look at me, he said, "Don't act stupid. You know what for."

I smirked. "Nope. You can't half-ass an apology, Oscar."

He shook his head and turned back to the stove. "Didn't like seeing you cry that night." Shrugging, he continues, "Felt like we met up again all wrong."

So, it wasn't just me. Though I had wanted the reunion with Oscar to be in a less intimate setting, I wonder how he expected things to go. Clearly, we were on two different pages if I asked how many people he slept with, and he wanted to make out. Maybe I had been out of touch with Freeridge for awhile but greeting an ex from 4 years ago with your body doesn't make for a great impression. Back then, it meant we'd be together for the night, and maybe a few more. Back then, sleeping with your ex meant there was a chance of getting back together again only for shit to hit the fan over the same damn reason it ended. Not wanting to press on how he thought things would go, I jokingly ask, "So, you called me your princesa that night?"

"Fuck. I take that back. You didn't hear shit that night." It was funny seeing Oscar get defensive and embarrassed for once. He wasn't exactly the romantic type.

"Well," I pause, for dramatic effect. Loved throwing him off. "I think you said that when you were about to go down on me."

He turns around so suddenly that I jump a little. "You're loca, Sylvia." But he was grinning at my brazenness. "You were too drunk, your memory is probably shit."

"Was I?"

"No sé. Why don't you tell me how I was making you feel? If your memory is that good, eh?"

"Pendejo," I mutter. "Is the food done yet?"

"Quit distractin' me and maybe it will be."

Oscar went back to making our steaks, and I mindlessly scrolled through my phone. This was the Oscar I had missed for some time. Teasing, joking, in a good mood. This was the interaction that made me feel like we were back to normal, being friends again. Even though it could be hot to have Oscar angry at me sometimes, it was also nice to just be on good terms with him and not have everything so serious. This is how our first time meeting should have been. Though it's not like I hated the way it actually went...

When the food was done, he sat across from me at the dinner table waiting for me to take the first bite. It wasn't overly cooked nor undercooked, and it was just juicy and savory enough that I couldn't resist a little moan of approval. Really good, per usual.

"It's good?"

"Yes!" I exclaim. "I forgot how well you could cook."

Smiling, he started to eat too. "Your boyfriend know how to cook?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. But he doesn't have time to cook."

The look on Oscar's face was a little smug and we ate in comfortable silence for a bit. He was clearly trying to determine if he was better than my boyfriend now, and maybe back then I would have found it cute, but I don't get why it matters now.

"What about you?" I ask. "You date anyone since you've been out?"

"Nah. Don't have time for a relationship."

Bet he has time for _other_ things.

"Don't even give me that look," Oscar said, after taking a drink of water.

"What look?" 

Shaking his head, he goes, "You ain't changed that much. You thinking about other girls for me as if you been here. You got less attitude now, but I still know that look."

Less attitude? I suppose being out of Freeridge for 4 years had its effect on a person. There was less reason to be on guard at university. Less guys catcalling you, more open-minded and freeing people who had a better sense of respect towards one another. Especially women. Here in Freeridge, the moment girls hit puberty is when they were up for grabs. Old guys, young guys, even little boys looked towards females as though they were only meant for them. Males claimed females here. That was how it worked and how it's always been. To be Oscar's girl meant that he had to openly claim me, but now I was having none of that. I wasn't claimed by anyone here, and that made me feel empowered coming back. We were on equal footing.

"You're still acting the same," I sigh. Being chill and closed off at the same time. It always took a little bit of time to break down Oscar's guard, and even now, he was being cautious with me.

"That a good thing or a bad thing?"

Teasing, I go, "I guess it depends on what I am to you. Am I on your bad side, or your good side?"

He takes my question seriously, moving his food around his plate before answering. "What side do you wanna be on?"

"You could never just answer me, huh? Always asking me what I wanna do, where I wanna be with you." I push my plate away. "Why don't you just tell me yourself how you feel about me for once? You at least owe me that."

The air feels heavy when he answers. "You'll always be part of this neighborhood, part of the familia."

Doesn't exactly answer my question, but it'll have to be enough for now.

After dinner and some more catching up, Oscar finally dropped me off back at home. Tonight I would call Alex and let him know how everything was going. I at least owed him that.


	5. Chapter 5

I expected either Ruby or Abuelita to be awake, waiting for me. It was already close to midnight, but neither were in the living room. Strange. After getting dressed and comfortable for bed, I scrolled through my contacts and dialed Alex's number. 

_"Hello?"_

"Hey," I smiled into the phone. His voice was comforting, reminding me of all the times I called when schoolwork stressed me out.

_"Finally have time to call me, huh?"_

I rolled over onto my stomach. "You know I've been busy, still trying to settle in. At least I called you!" 

His laugh is warm and familiar. _"Yeah, you told me you'd been busy drinking and getting in trouble."_

"Yeah," I murmured, remembering Oscar and our heavy make out session. A stab of guilt shot through me. "I guess I got a little carried away at the party. How's the training going?"

_"It's great. They're teaching me so many things here. Lots of exercise but it'll help me in the long run when I become a police officer."_

"I'm so proud of you." And I truly am.

_"Thank you, mi corazón. I miss you. I miss hearing your voice, having you next to me."_

The way he said that made my heart ache in a way unfamiliar to me. It wasn't as reassuring as I once found it to be, but I couldn't place what was off about it. Perhaps it was the shame from how little I replied to his texts, or that I was lowkey putting off talking to him once Oscar and I met up. Probably both. It's not like Alex didn't know about Oscar. It's just that he didn't know much about him. I never told Alex that Oscar was released from prison, or even that he went to prison. Alex didn't know that the reason I wanted to help juveniles steer clear from a life of crime was because losing Oscar to crime left me devastated. Anytime Alex had asked in the early stages of our relationship, I waved it off so nonchalantly. As if Oscar and my relationship was just something minor in my life. As if Oscar wasn't my first everything, my first love. And I intended to keep it that way. Maybe if I spoke of it that way, I would start to believe it. And it worked, to an extent.

"I miss you too," I tell him. "Just a couple more months until we see each other, right?"

_"Right. And then once we get our lives going, maybe I can afford to put a ring on you."_ The idea of marriage and having a family was always more appealing to Alex. He was old school, coming from a good family and community. I, on the other hand, grew up seeing dysfunctional families. Divorced parents, pregnant teen moms with baby daddies who bailed, children as young as 9 years old being sexualized. Sure, being with Oscar at the time had me hoping things would work out, that we'd be an exception, but the term "marriage" made me want to take 20 steps back now.

"Maybe. But that's only another year. I say we wait at least 7 years before marrying each other!" I laugh, so it doesn't come off as rejecting as it seems.

_"Do we have the time given our careers and everything? By then, we'll be in our 30s,"_ he says.

"Of course, we will. Unless you don't plan on sticking around that long?" I tease.

Alex laughs. _"You know I'd wait for you, Sylvia. I love you. A lot."_

My breath catches in my throat. "I love you too," I finally say. "Hey, I did a lot of cleaning the past few days, so I'm a little bit tired. Is it cool if we call it a night?"

_"Yeah, I understand. All this running at 6 AM is no joke,"_ he laughs. _"Wait until you see how buff I get. You'll be even more in love with me."_

I roll my eyes. "Mhmm. I'll talk to you later?"

_"Sí. Have a good night. I love you."_

"Love you too."

~~~

Everyday life in the Martinez home went by routinely. The kids dragged themselves to school while my aunt and uncle went to work. I spent some time with Abuelita listening to stories of her younger days and daydreaming about Oscar. I knew it wasn't healthy considering Alex, but it was hard not to reminisce about old times. The teasing, the exploring, the fights. Maybe Oscar and I never had the proper closure to our breakup. I kept thinking, maybe if he hadn't gone to prison, we wouldn't have split. At least, that's what I keep telling myself. Part of me couldn't deny this attraction to him still, but that was normal for exes, right? They say you never really get over your first love, and maybe this is what they were talking about. It's like having read a book or watched a movie from long ago that you really loved, and then reading it all over again years later. It still reminds you of how you felt the first time you experienced it.

Later that evening, Ruby knocked at my door.

"We're trying to go the beach this weekend, you're invited."

"Gee, thanks," I say, placing my book on the dresser. His expression seemed off, almost reserved. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Everything's fine." He was short and curt. "Why? Is everything okay for you?"

Squinting my eyes at him, I reply, "Yeah."

"Good. Have a goodnight."

What a strange boy. I wonder what he must be going through as a teen in today's world. Shaking my head, I pick up my book and resume reading.

When Saturday came around, Abuelita allowed me to borrow her car again in exchange for services. Services involved a back massage and showing her pictures of my boyfriend, Alex.

"Please, Abuelita," Ruby groaned. "Can we please leave now? You'll see him in person in like a month."

Abuelita scoffed at Ruby. "Let me have this! I haven't seen my boy in a long while."

"Your boy?" I laugh. I was sitting beside Abuelita on the couch wearing a swimsuit underneath shorts and a white t-shirt. The water would be cold, but it was almost summertime and the heat was starting to rise. Not that it ever went down in Freeridge but still. I missed being in the ocean. It was vast and wide and open. Reminded me of how tiny we were compared to the world.

Ruby impatiently stood at the front door with his swim trunks on and a polo. He also had a duck floatie, goggles, and all of the towels with him. I was carrying the food we cooked this morning in the high chance we all grew hungry. Something about being in the water made me feel starved, so I packed extra.

"We still need to pick up Monse and Jamal, you know," he reminded us.

"Okay, fine. Here's my keys. Don't wreck my car," Abuelita gave me the keys.

"Thank you," I kissed her temple. She gave me an appraising look and waved her hand at the both of us, dismissing us from her presence.

"Finally," Ruby sighed, exasperated, as he sank into the passenger seat.

"Are you okay?" I started the car and music blared from the radio. Glancing at him, he seemed so dejected. "What made you want to go to the beach this weekend? You seem so grumpy."

"Just need to clear my mind," he attempted, giving me a weak ghost of a smile.

I started the drive to Monse's house. Jamal was already there because it would be easier to pick up the both of them from one destination. I didn't want to use a lot of Abuelita's gas up especially when I didn't have any steady income.

"How's school been going?"

"Great. I'm at the top of my class. Not surprised."

"Okay. How's family life?"

Ruby gave me a look as though I was dumb. "You literally live with us, Sylvia."

"Yeah, but I mean, maybe you feel differently about the situation, how am I supposed to know?" I gave him a half-smile to show that I was joking.

"It's fine."

"Friends are okay?" He nodded. "Any girlfriend issues?"

"I don't have a girlfriend. Yet."

"You don't?" I act surprised. "But you're such a smooth talker, and how could a girl resist your charm?"

"It's kind of hard with Cesar around and all the ladies love him. Tall, handsome, in a gang. He's the bad boy they all dream about." Ruby's tone was bitter. Aha. That's the problem.

"Is this why Cesar's not coming? Because you two are in a fight?"

"I wouldn't call it a fight," Ruby replied, offhandedly. "Just another disagreement."

At this, I left it alone. There was some tension between Ruby and Cesar; there always had been since they were younger. They were practically brothers growing up, but they both viewed life differently and that's where the conflict started. Cesar was all about things being set in stone and unchanging. Cesar accepted things the way they are, especially tradition. Ruby was more about making his own path and working to adapt or change what was given to him. He was more flexible in that way. Just two stubborn, hard-headed boys.

We pick up Monse and Jamal who are in swim gear as well, and whom also brought tons of snacks and towels. Ruby looked at the first aid kit Jamal brought with him. "Was this necessary, Jamal?"

"Absolutely! You never know what dangers are lurking on the beach. Haven't you heard of those horror stories with the sharks and the jellyfish?"

"No," Monse rolled her eyes. "There won't be any sharks this close to our beach. And a first aid kit won't save your life even if there was a shark attack."

"That's what you're saying now, but just you wait until a jellyfish stings you," Jamal sassed back.

We arrive at the beach and because it's still May, it's not as crowded. The kids run off ahead of me, excited but not trying to show it. The sun is high, and the air is warm here with a cool breeze. I'm stuck with lugging a lot of the food over and finding a spot to set up, which shouldn't be hard, but the sand sinks me down quicker than I would have thought.

I leave my white shirt on but strip my shorts off so that I'm wearing a shirt and the dark blue swimsuit. It's a two piece, and the bottoms are connected front and back by a thin string that I had to tie on tight so as not to slip off. I bought this swimsuit because of how well it fit and hugged my curves. I loved it.

The kids come back to help me place the towels and blanket down so we could sit, and having already stepped into the water, they've got sand sticking to their legs. They talk about the beach, water, school, and food while eating and I sit there smiling, enjoying their simple conversation. Monse keeps glancing at the parking lot though.

The boys go back into the water while she and I watch our things, relaxing.

"Hey," Monse smiles all of a sudden, looking up at someone. I turn and place a hand over my eyes to block the sunlight.

"Hey," Cesar smiles down at her. By his side, unexpectedly, is Oscar. He's dressed in his classic gray shirt and black shorts, socks pulled up to his knees. Definitely not beach attire. He raises a brow at me, and I feel my face heat up from what skimpy bottoms I'm wearing.

"What are you two doing here?" I ask, looking at Cesar. Feeling self-conscious, I cross my legs one over the other. I thought Cesar wasn't coming, according to Ruby.

"Enjoying the beach, same as you guys," Cesar said. He was also dressed in swimwear.

"I invited him," Monse admitted, coming off a little bit guilty. What for though? Is it because she still thinks Oscar and I aren't on good terms?

We hear Jamal and Ruby walk up and Ruby's face drops.

"Why is he here? And why is HE here?" Ruby glances at Oscar. Oscar simply raises his brow and gives him a smirk.

"Why can't he be here?" Cesar asked, crossing his arms. The boys stare each other down, making the situation uncomfortable.

"You know EXACTLY why," Ruby replies, looking pointedly at me.

While they continue glaring at each other, I say, "Chill. It's okay. Oscar and I are friends."

Ignoring me, Cesar asks Monse, "Did you want to take a walk somewhere?"

"I'd like that," Monse agreed, giving Ruby a look that told him to calm down. Standing, she takes Cesar's arm and they walk away leaving me, Jamal, Ruby, and Oscar.

There's an awkward silence until Jamal breaks it by asking Oscar, "So did you want to take a dip in the water? It's cold but refreshing because it's at least 90 degrees out. But that's not really good clothes for swimming-"

"Jamal," Ruby and I both say. Jamal looks down at the sand, nervous being around Oscar.

"Nah, homie, I'm gonna stay right here," he chuckles, sitting in the spot beside me. I don't get over the way he looks at my bare legs and back up at me.

"Okay." Jamal looks over at Ruby. "We should go look for Monse and Cesar."

Ruby still hasn't gotten over the fact that Oscar is here. "You go ahead. I'm just going to chill out here."

"Ruby," Jamal hissed. "I think we should go find Monse and Cesar."

Smiling at Oscar and I, Jamal grabs Ruby's arm and practically drags him away from us.

"What was all that about?" I ask, raising a brow. He shrugs, pulling out a smoke. He lights it up and just like Oscar would do, starts smoking on the beach in non-beach attire.

"I love the beach," he states. He looks out at the sea, and I draw my legs up to wrap my arms around them. "You cold?"

"No. Just trying to get more comfortable."

"I like your swimsuit," he says, looking down at my bottom half, once again. "You always know what to wear."

"Thanks," I reply, slightly sarcastic. He was blatantly checking me out, but for some reason, I didn't mind too much. "I want to go into the water, but I don't want to go alone. Come with me, yeah?"

He gives me a look. "In what clothes?"

"Take it off," I say. "We got enough towels."

Smirking, he says, "Wanna say that to me again later?"

"Oscar," I chide, smacking his arm and standing up. "Come on. Why even come to the beach if you won't get in the water?"

"To enjoy the view." He looks right at my ass, and I roll my eyes at him.

Holding my hand out, I ask, "Please?" We're looking at each other and his eyes are so deep brown, framed by dark lashes, that it catches me off guard. I've always known he had dark, handsome features, but the way he grew into them at 23 versus 17 was impressive.

"I ain't gettin' into the water," Oscar shakes his head, putting out his smoke. "No way."

Feeling mischievous, I kneel down in front of him in a position placed perfectly between his legs. He raises a brow at me, but I notice the way he goes perfectly still. Waiting for me.

Placing my hands on his thighs, I lean forward into him so that I'm whispering in his ear, "Por favor, Oscar. I really want to be wet right now."

"Fuck," he mutters, itching to place his hands on my hips. The way this must look at the beach. Me, in between his legs, whispering into his ear while my hands are close to his crotch. Any sense of dignity in front of others completely shredded. Unable to resist, he lifts his hands to place them on my curvy waist. "What are you doing, mamí?" His thumbs rub circles through my shirt, wanting to feel skin.

"Trying to get you to come with me into the water," I whisper seductively again.

Oscar's hands twitch down to my hips, closer to my ass now. "What about your novio?"

"He ain't here," I state, getting up abruptly and turning towards the ocean. That way he can get a nice view of me from behind, and knowing Oscar, he'd be tempted to follow. This is harmless, I tell myself. This is just teasing, I'm not actually trying to do anything with him. A small voice in the back of my head asks; but is this something I would tell Alex? No. But I push that thought down while I turn my head to look back at Oscar, still sitting there stunned.

"Damn."

"You coming, or not?" I ask, impatiently.

Frustrated, he takes his shirt off and I want to let out a low whistle because hot damn, this man is fine. The way his arms flex underneath his tan skin, and the way his necklace rests in the spot between his collarbones. I want to run my hands along his chest, but this time, not be drunk. He takes off his shoes and socks as well, leaving only his shorts.

"You like the view, mamí?" He asks, cocky, having noticed the way I looked him up and down.

Putting on a neutral face, I say, "I've seen better." Then I turn and start walking towards the water, so he doesn't call my bluff.

"Seen better?" Oscar trails behind me, not beside me. This fool. I sway my hips on purpose. Teasing Oscar had always been a fun activity for me. By a technicality, this wasn't cheating as long as he looked but didn't touch. Lots of girls ogled at Alex when we were at university. What's the difference here?

I make it to the edge of the water when Oscar turns me toward him by my waist. There're still inches between our bodies, but my attraction to him makes me want to lean into him. What a dangerous game we're playing.

"You like teasin' me this much?" he asks, lips slightly lifted in a smile. "Maybe you've seen better but you still one of the finest hynas I've ever seen."

I pull away, a brief thought of other girls he's slept with invading my mind. "Don't call me that."

Knowing he struck a nerve, he let me go. "Okay. I take it back."

Stepping into the water, it wasn't as cold as I assumed it would be. The heat from the sun made it feel a little warm. I walk further into the ocean until the water pulled at the bottom of my shirt, the waves tugging it this way, and that. Oscar stood back, knee-deep in the ocean.

"You mad at me?" He called. The way Oscar seemed slightly hurt that I was offended comforted me a bit. I just didn't want to be compared to other girls who slept around with members of the Santos. I didn't want to be seen as that.

When I didn't respond, he looked around for anyone watching, cursed, and walked deeper into the water so he didn't have to yell. "Look, the word just slipped okay? You ain't like the others."

I let my hands swirl and rest on top of the surface, not saying a word, while he continued to speak. "Ain't you just said you seen better back there? I know you didn't mean anything by it, did you? Because I was just talking-"

Swiftly, I spun around and splashed some water at him, causing him to sputter.

"Ey! The fuck are you doing?!"

Smiling, I run deeper into the ocean, so my head is popping out of the water. My shirt sticks to my form and I pull my hair back, so it doesn't stick to my face. "I got over it."

Oscar wipes the water off of his face and the way the light hits the droplets on his body makes it hard to tear my gaze away. I always forget how handsome he is until the sun kisses his warm, brown skin. Even the smile he gives me has my heart racing in ways I haven't felt since I first got with Alex. It really has been that long.

"C'mere," he demands. I shake my head, laughing. Smirking, he dives into the water which scares me because I forget Oscar can swim much better than me. I kick my feet out and flail my arms helplessly underneath the water, trying to feel for him. My arm brushes against something and I let out a yelp, freaking out a bit. I could go underneath the water as well, but I didn't bring a hair tie to pull the rest of my hair back.

A strong pair of arms wraps around my stomach, pulling me to slightly less deep water. Deep enough to dunk me in though. Oscar emerged from underneath, lifting me with him, the water having made me much lighter. With nervous laughter, I turn and wrap my arms around his shoulders, clinging for dear life.

"Put me down, Oscar!"

"You were talkin' all that shit earlier," he smirked. We were chest to chest now, with nothing but my swimsuit and a wet shirt between us.

"I take it back!" Giggling, I try to pull away but his hold on me is too tight.

"Take what back?"

His arms tense up, about to dunk me into some salty ocean water. "I haven't seen better! You're the best I've ever seen!"

"Damn right," he states, knowing I'm just trying to save my ass. "But I still gotta get you back for earlier, ma."

I hold my breath as he dunks me under the water, getting my hair soaking wet. I try to grab onto him, but my arms end up wrapping around his abdomen and that's when I feel how turned on I make him. Dios mío.

Popping my head back up, I take in a deep breath of air and push my wet hair back. Oscar is smiling at me and I decide not to make it known that I indirectly felt him down there. The next hour and a half was the most laid back it had been with Oscar since I came back to Freeridge, as we joked around and talked in the water.

When we finally walk back to our spot, we're bumping into one another without a care in the world. His arm brushes against mine and he laughs at the random information I know about aquatic animals. It reminds me of when we first dated at 16. For a blissful second, I forget that he's a gang member with a temper.

The rest of them are waiting for us, having dried themselves off with the towels. Most of the food is gone too. We stop short of walking, and Oscar puts his clothes back on while I wrap a towel around me. There's a weird tension in the air that I can't help but ask, "What?"

"Nothing," Cesar answers with a tight smile. No one is looking at each other, and I glance at Oscar who gives me a look implying he has no idea, nor does he care.

"We're ready to go," states Ruby. He and Jamal pack up their things while Monse glares at them. "We'll meet you guys at the car."

Cesar and Monse take the rest of the stuff. They all walk to the parking lot with Oscar and I following at a distance behind them. "Today was nice," I tell him.

"Yeah it was," he nods. Monse and Cesar hug each other goodbye at Oscar's car and I look over at my boys watching me, waiting.

"Well," I start. "Gotta go."

"Drive home safe, Sylvia." He brushes back a loose tendril of hair from my face gently. I suck in a breath and force myself to turn away.

By the time we all get home, we're exhausted and night has fallen.


	6. Chapter 6

I don't know what time it is when my phone starts buzzing. I had changed into a pair of dry panties and a loose-fitting shirt before knocking out. The fan in my room kept me cool enough, blowing semi-warm air at me. If anything, fans in the hot weather were best at keeping sweaty skin dry rather than cooling anyone off. Tonight was a particularly warm night as summer crawled closer.

Instinctively, I answer the phone. "Hola, mi rey." My voice was thick with sleep and groggy.

_"Hey."_ Deep voice. A chuckle. Jolted me right awake.

"Oscar?" I cleared my throat as best I could. Usually Alex was the only person calling me at this time.

_"I liked the first one better."_ His voice was deep and intimate over the phone, being right in my ear. I hated the way it sent slight shivers down my back.

"How did you get my number?"

_"Don't worry about it. One of your towels got mixed in with ours when Cesar picked it up."_

Probably Monse gave Cesar my number who gave it to Oscar. But why he was calling at this time about a damn towel...!

"Okay, drop it off tomorrow, or just give it to Cesar to give to one of the kids." I turned my pillow over so that it was cold.

_"Cesar ain't here."_ Probably at Monse's then, that boy. There was a slight pause while the rest of my sleep caught up to me. I yawned, waiting to see what else he wanted. "Can I come over?"

"Now? What time is it?"

_"About 1 in the morning."_

"You wanna come all the way over here to drop a towel off?" I ask in disbelief. "It's late and I'd have to sneak you in through the window, like old times."

_"I didn't hear a no."_ I could feel him smirking on the other end of the call. Going back and forth, I debated truly sneaking Oscar over. Would it be a smart idea? No. Would it be a good idea? Definitely not. But was earlier today with Oscar having me feel some type of way? Yes.

"Don't forget the towel," I hissed. "And park far away!"

I hung up the phone, the last thing I heard from him being laughter.

About 15 minutes later, I hear a knock at my window and get up to open it. He's standing there with my towel in his hand and an expectant look. Grabbing my towel from his arm, I turn to close the window. "Thanks."

"Ain't you going to let me in?" He asks, incredulous. My mouth curves up into a small smile.

"I thought you were only coming by to drop it off."

"You're impossible, mujer." He runs his hand through his head. "I came to see you."

"Should have said that then." I opened my window wider so that he could climb in, closing it shut behind him. "What'd you want to see me for?"

He took in my appearance; messy, dark hair tumbling down my back, in nothing but a shirt and panties. Clearing his throat, he says, "To talk. You always dress like this around people?"

"You came to see me to talk, but you couldn't do that over the phone?" I snort, amused. "And you're in my room, of course I'mma be dressed like this." Oscar looks embarrassed, rubbing the back of his head, and I cross my arms over my chest.

"I like talking to you in person," he says, half-grinning. But then his expression turns serious. "And I can't get you outta my mind lately. You got me all messed up."

Crazy to hear coming from a highly regarded Santos member. There was nothing but the faint sound of my fan humming. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means…" He rubs the back of his head, trying to find words. "I can't focus on the shit I need to do when you're around."

I bite my lip, calculating what he's saying. It sounds like a bad thing. Seems like he doesn't want me in his life. "I guess I'll stop coming around then so you can focus on your Santos shit, yeah?"

He sighs frustrated and sits down on my bed. I sit beside him, keeping my distance. His hands are squeezed tightly and I'm cautious, knowing Oscar has a tendency to snap at any moment. I wait for him to speak again when I ask, "What's wrong?"

"You being here. That shit you pulled earlier to get me into the water. The way you dress around me."

"Me being here is a problem for you?" Then I scoff. "The way I dress, really?"

"It turns me on, and you know that."

I go quiet, and we're both searching my room for any sort of solution. There's a weird stirring in my abdomen at hearing him say that, and I feel super aware of everything in the moment. I mean, it wasn't a shocker hearing this. Oscar's a guy. Knowing I still turn him on got me feeling multiple ways. All good, and all bad.

"You can call up any one of your Santos girls to help you out."

"Nah," he says. "Not just any hyna. Yeah, I fucked around with 'em while you were gone, but I still missed you. Still thought about you. Wondered how you were."

"None of that means anything. You weren't reaching out to me."

"I didn't want to ruin your future. But I'm here now, ain't I?"

"You say that like it's simple." I stare at his full lips and trail down to his neck, and the tattoo there. We were both here, right now, in this moment. The tension was so thick, not all of this heat was coming from the summer. I could still smell the salt from the ocean on his skin.

"Nothing in life is simple," he murmurs, moving his face closer to mine. His expression is so somber, with his brows furrowed. Instinctively, my hand smooths out his forehead and his lips hover over mine. Stopping, he says, "You're with someone else."

"But I'm here with you now, ain't I?"

Softly, he presses his lips to mine and they mold together perfectly. I don't know what it is about Oscar, but there's never any trace of my boyfriend in my mind. It's like my body resets itself, giving in to Oscar's touch and words and presence. Like my heart only responds to him. Or maybe just my body. Or both. He groans against me, picking me up so that I'm straddling him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, he squeezes my ass hard, and I let out a small yelp. He starts to suck on my neck, and it feels so good that I grind a little against him wanting more.

"No bra?" He lifts my shirt up to place his mouth perfectly onto my nipple and uses his free hand to play with the other. There's a heat rising inside of me and I'm resisting the urge to squirm around, but my back arches against his mouth. It's been so long since Oscar's seen me nude.

"I thought I was going to get some sleep," I say, breathless. "No point in wearing one."

Oscar's hands and mouth are all over me, and I moan against him. His erection presses against my panties when I hear him go, "Fuck, Sylvia."

I have to be quieter than this before I wake up the whole damn house. I bury my face into his neck, biting his shoulder and leaving marks. Showing that he's mine, that he's claimed. His smell is intoxicating.

"You leavin' hickies on me, ma?"

"Just marking my territory."

Oscar suddenly flips me onto my back, pinning me down with my shirt halfway up. "Your territory?" He raises a brow. "I ain't belong to nobody except the Santos and myself. But you?"

In one swift motion, he nips at my collarbone leaving his own marks. Making his own claim on me, not that it would ever be needed. "So," I gasp. "You said me being here is a problem for you? But look at you now."

Oscar trails kisses down to my abdomen, fluttering in response. "This is my way of figuring it out." His hand slips under my panties and he's caressing me, sliding his fingers in and out slowly. Driving me insane.

"What do you want from me?" I whisper, resisting the urge to move my hips against him. Pressure is building up inside of me, and I'm growing restless. "And tell me the truth, not some half-ass cop out answer."

In response, he pulls my panties down and uses his mouth against me to give me more pleasure. I should be mad he didn't answer but it's hard to talk serious when I'm letting out breathy little moans. He holds my hips firm against him, giving me no room to escape, flicking his tongue against me artfully. In some ways, it's like he remembers my body better than I used to. He's pushing against me in all the right places, hitting all the right spots, that I can't remember what I asked. Nothing on my mind except for his tongue and this warmth spreading through me.

"You like when I touch you like this?"

"Sí, it feels so good," I tell him, biting down on my lip. Encouraged, Oscar moves at a steadier pace, lapping at me faster. I'm in such pleasure that I spread my legs open wider, giving him more access. I let out little moans that I can't hold back, and Oscar holds me down roughly so I would quit squirming around underneath him.

My abdomen grows tighter as the pressure increases me closer to my climax. He rocks me against his mouth, hungry for more of me, and that's when my phone starts buzzing. Alex's face lights up on my screen and before I can reject the call, Oscar's lifted his head, seeing it.

"You gonna pick that up?" He asks, fingers slowing down to a stop. But I'm too close to come down now.

"No," I say, out of breath. Phone still vibrating, my hand holds onto his forearm. "Keep going, Oscar. You're going to make me-"

Not needing to finish that sentence, Oscar's mouth works against me immediately with a desire, and need, so strong my body shakes. He places his hand roughly against my mouth to muffle my moans, and I push into him, needing more. More of his tongue, more of Oscar. It'd been so long since I had came this hard that it had me questioning what I'd been doing the past four years with those other boys. And he gives me what I never knew I'd been missing. He's looking at me with this satisfied grin on his face.

"What?" My face goes hot.

He kisses my inner thigh softly. "I missed you."

"Yeah?"

"And I want you to be mine again."

My eyes dart towards my phone which has stopped vibrating, and a sinking feeling fills me with shame. "I can't just-"

"I know," he says, sitting up. I pull my panties back up and throw a blanket over my legs feeling cold despite the warmth of summer.

We stay quiet. Nothing but the sound of our breathing slowing down from our little session. Maybe he's hoping I leave Alex for him, but that can't happen. Alex was good to me, and maybe I not so much to him. But dating Oscar would be a huge contradiction to my life's goals and ambitions. I want to help out troubled juveniles and that can't happen while I'm dating a gang member. Not unless he dropped out of that lifestyle, but I know he can't. Life's not simple like that.

Then what was this? What were we? What were we doing? I wish I knew the answer to all of that. With all his "I miss you" and finding ways to see me, this can't just be a hit it and quit it situation.

"You still care about me, Sylvia?" He continues to look out the window, though there's nothing out there to see.

"I do," I say without hesitation. "You're still… my friend, you know? At least, I would hope so."

He chuckles, mutters, "Friend." Shaking his head, he goes, "I mean, you still got any feelings left for me?"

"What does it matter?" I reply, repeating what he's said to me. Saying any more would just complicate the situation further than it needs to be. "I'm seeing someone else now. You have your own life to live."

Oscar nods, an impressed look on his face. Can't argue with that logic. He stands up and starts heading for the window.

"You're leaving?" I hate the trace of desperation in my voice. But seeing him with his back turned to me, leaving so soon after that made me feel off. Like he didn't get the answer he wanted.

Opening up the window, he ducks through and turns back to look at me. "See you around, mamita."

The window closes, and I don't know when the next time I'll see him, if ever.


	7. Chapter 7

I think about Oscar idly as the week drags on. The last time he touched me driving me insane, and whatever he meant by his words. So I try to find things to distract myself with. Ruby and I go shopping. I help Abuelita make a dress for one of her friends' daughter. Conversations with Alex are always done at midnight, when I'm lying in the bed Oscar and I were in. We have a game night with Jamal and Monse, but no signs of Cesar. No signs of any Diaz brother. Ruby drinks chamomile tea, claiming it helps with stress. I've never seen him so relaxed. Monse drums her fingernails on the table, voice raising higher than usual when Jamal wins another game of Uno. I feel like a combination of both of them.

Next Friday, I get a phone call at 9 PM which is earlier than usual for Alex. I throw away the wrapper for the face mask I was trying out. Looking at the caller ID, it's Jamal. He never calls me unless something's come up.

"What's wrong?"

_"Random question. Have you uhh… talked to Spooky lately?"_

Anxiety makes me stand. "No, I haven't. Did something happen? Are you okay? Are you in trouble?"

_"No!" Jamal exclaimed. "But… We think Cesar might be."_

"You think?!"

_"Honestly, it's not the first time this has happened. It's just, Monse's freaking out because he hasn't been in contact with her either."_

I rip the face mask off and throw on a hoodie. My towel lies on the floor forgotten as I pull my jeans up. "Where are you two? And how long has Cesar been missing?"

Indistinct words come from his side of the call. Quickly, my damp hair is wrapped into a messy bun and I slip into the living room to grab Abuelita's keys.

_"She says a few days now, but I guess it's been longer than normal. They also didn't end on very good terms, she says. And his phone is shut off. We're at school on the football field."_

"On my way," I tell them. Abuelita's snoring is loud enough to drown out the sound of her car starting, I swear. I usually try to avoid driving this late at night with how dangerous the neighborhood has gotten, but if Cesar's in deep trouble than this was an emergency situation.

When I pull up to the school, Monse is pacing the sidewalk, biting her nails. They both jump into my car immediately, Jamal naturally moving to the backseat. Unable to understand what it's like to date a Santos member.

"We've looked everywhere for him!" Monse tells me, panic laced in her tone. "School, the park, bus stations. And anytime we call, it goes straight to voicemail!"

My finger taps against the steering wheel as I drive. "You two get into a fight?"

I feel her hesitation without seeing it. "Kindof."

"He broke up with her." Jamal makes eye contact with me in the rearview mirror. "I told her maybe she's being too clingy."

"But we always make up," Monse replies, defensively. "I don't know what would have made him say that to me. He normally tells me what's wrong, but this time, well… I don't know what happened this time. I think it has to do with the Santos crew."

Biting my lip, I finally turn onto the street belonging to the Santos. Oscar's place. People were spilling out of his house, music blasting from speakers. I couldn't tell if I could see more skin from the girls or more alcohol, but the place reeked of weed even before we stepped out of the car. The party was bigger than usual. I remember frequenting parties with the Santos as a teenager, Oscar there to ease my tension. This time, he wouldn't be. Putting the car in park, I tell them, "You two can wait here."

"I'm coming with you," Monse states, seatbelt undone already. Jamal remained in his spot.

With a nervous smile, he says, "I'll make sure the car doesn't get stolen."

A second later, a group of Santos boys, no older than 18, stumble into the street. Two of them throw jabs and punches at each other while the rest encourage it, with beer in their hands.

"You know what? I'll just go in with you two, the more people in a group the more intimidating, right? Three is better than two!"

Shaking our heads, we walk up to the house, gaining the most attention for being out of place. Santos men look Monse and I up and down with a nasty look on their face, rubbing their hands together like they're about to do shit. I'd never been more grateful to myself for throwing this hoodie on. Jamal steps on the back of my heels, following at an insanely close distance. The front door is guarded by a line of Santos guys and girls, some I can recognize.

"Ain't you Spooky's bitch from way back when?" Someone calls out.

_"She think she better than us 'cause she went to school somewhere else."_

_"You only fuck white boys now?"_

_"The things I'd do to you, mamacita, you and your little friend right there."_

_"I think her name Celia o some shit? I dunno how she got with Spooky though, she look too innocent unless he like 'em that way."_

_"Nah, not with them girls he be having over here. He prolly got bored of her."_

Gritting my teeth, I raise my voice over all of theirs. "Where is he?"

Not one of them answered except for a shorter but stockier Santo with tattoos covering his entire body. "Why you askin'?"

"None of your business." I glare at all of them, hoping to come off not as uncomfortable as I feel. Monse's doing the same, but I can see how tightly her nails are digging into her upper arm, hands crossed over her chest.

They all laugh at us, hooting and hollering. Some of the girls check out my appearance with judging eyes, and I briefly wonder if Oscar slept with any of them. Another Santo member with more muscle and big hair says, "Any business you bring here is our business, hyna." He smiles real big, as if that's supposed to reassure me. His teeth are extra white, and he wears more chains than the others. "This is a party. You supposed to come here to have a good time, no? I can show you a good time."

The others laugh at him. One says, "She probably only sleep with gringos, man!"

"Okay," I drawl, nodding along with them, playing their game. "Show me a good time."

His smile drops a tiny bit. "¿Qué? You bein' serious?"

"Sí," I force a flirtatious smile at him. "It's a party, right? Show us where the drinks are then."

He walks down to stand in front of me, looking at my clothes. "Am I gonna get to see what's under all this, ma? Wasn't you just looking for Spooky?"

"I was." I lean a little closer toward him. "But you're kinda cute for a Santo. I can worry about Spooky later."

He grins, cocky, and wraps an arm around my waist pulling me close to him. Jamal and Monse look like their feet are glued to the ground and I hope they're following when he leads me to the backyard. The rest of the Santos stare but essentially go back to what they were doing, less tense now that they knew we were being escorted by another member of theirs. Whoever this guy is, he rubs my waist through the thick fabric of my hoodie and it makes me want to cut his hand off.

"Chulito."

"Huh?"

"Mi nombre."

How fitting. "Sylvia."

"Pretty name for a pretty face."

Giving him a genuine smile, we reach the table holding so many bottles of liquor. Jamal's eyes go big, and Monse purses her lips. Chulito pours us all a swig of tequila in red Solo cups and hands it to each of us. "To the Santos!" He cheers.

He downs his cup. I throw my head back to fool him, but I drink a small amount. Jamal gags right after a sip and Monse just looks inside of her cup. We've got to get to Oscar.

"Hey, Chulito," I grab onto his arm. He sways a little, and I take advantage of that. Dragging him to the sofa, I sit him down, taking Monse's cup of tequila and shoving it at him. "You sure know how to hold your liquor. How about showing these kids how you do it, yeah?"

He raises his brows at me. "You gonna drink some more with me?"

Taking a long sip from the cup in his hand, I tell the other two, "Stay here, I gotta run to the bathroom. I'm a bit of a lightweight." My hand rubs his thigh meaning to be reassuring, and he looks at me with a perverted gaze. These Santos guys sure don't mind even if there are kids nearby. They just want what they can get. Monse and Jamal give me looks that practically scream 'I don't wanna be here.' The stern look I return tells them to stay put while I go figure this shit out.

Entering through the house from the back door drew less attention. I knew my way around this house like the back of my hand. People were making a mess of the kitchen, Solo cups everywhere, along with half-filled beer bottles. Smoke filled the air and I passed by, waving it away and coughing. When I walked into the living room, Oscar held a smoke in his hand, with a girl latched onto his arm like a leech. She was wearing next to nothing and her leg was draped comfortably over his legs, caressing them lightly. He looked like he didn't mind it at all, body relaxed as hell.

My anger bounced back, no, snapped back. This is why he hadn't been in contact with me for so many days. So much for missing me, right?

"Spooky," I bark at him, his eyes flying open. Upon seeing me, he sat up a little straighter but didn't shake the girl off. He looked confused to see me. I was here for Cesar, not for him, I had to remind myself.

Oscar was still surrounded by his crew, so he had an image to maintain. They were intrigued, looking between me and him. "Yo, what're you doin' here dressed in that?"

That makes them laugh, me looking like a bum at a party. Even the girl beside him giggles, holding on a little tighter to his arm between her cleavage. Too bad she doesn't know about the marks I left on him underneath his white shirt. I shift onto my left foot, placing a hand on my hip. Oscar's gaze trails to my collarbone, remembering the last night we saw each other. He scratches at his neck.

"Who is she to you?" the girl asks him. Before he can respond, I answer for him.

"Nobody." My tone comes out bitter without intending to. "I'm nobody to him. Ain't that right?"

"Hey," he mutters, a warning. But I'm not phased by it. He knows better than to go further than that with me. The other members look on, amused. Probably sees me as some side chick he fools around with on the low. A side chick who maybe wanted things to be more serious than it should.

"You know where your brother is?"

His brows furrow, even more confused. "Whatchu mean?"

"He ain't been at home with you?"

Oscar shakes the girl off and she pouts but drapes herself over a pillow instead. "Nah. Thought he been spending the nights with his girl instead."

Fear travels up my spine. No one knows where Cesar is. I keep my voice steady. "She's outside right now with Chulito. Been trying to call him, goes straight to voicemail. Been missing for a few days now. Thought you would know, being his brother and all."

Oscar stands up, clearly concerned, and taking deeper breaths than usual. His hands are shaking slightly, and it frustrates me that he doesn't pay more attention to Cesar.

A Santo member says, "Aw, Lil' Spook is probably at some other hyna's place right now! Tell his girl he'll be back in no time!" This one is older, laughing as he says this. But Oscar knows Cesar, despite the tough image they try to blend in with. If there's anything Cesar picked up from Oscar, it's that he wouldn't leave Monse for no reason. There had to have been a significant reason for Cesar to disappear like this. And it might have to do with some gang shit, but if Oscar didn't know about it, then Cesar might be in deeper trouble than we thought.

"Anyway, I'm gonna try and find him. Call me if he shows up," I turn and wave a hand nonchalantly, heading to the backyard. Trying to forget how naturally the girl looked hanging off of him.

"Wait up!"

I pretend not to hear and take quick, brisk steps into the kitchen. A hand grabs at my wrist and pulls me around to look at him.

"You deaf or what?"

Looking pointedly at his hand still holding my wrist, he drops it and mutters, "Sorry."

"How are you going to not know where Cesar is, huh? That's your brother. You're supposed to be taking care of him, not letting some 15-year-old run around the streets of the neighborhood, especially when they know he's with the Santos!"

Oscar's anger matches mine. "He don't talk to me. I'm not all up in his business. When I was 15, hell, even younger than that, I was running around the neighborhood. Nothing ever happened to me."

"But something could have happened," I stressed, wanting him to understand. "You did what you had to do, but you could at least see that Cesar has an opportunity to get outta this lifestyle. You did too, but you blew it, Oscar, you threw that future of yours away."

He looks taken aback, hurt. We both know it's true. Oscar had potential, he was smart and clever. He could have gotten out of this neighborhood and we could have started a new life somewhere else together. Could have, should have, would have. That's all anyone in Freeridge ever talked like.

"Cesar's my family, my blood," he says, slowly. "He's part of this, just as much as I am. There's no escape from this life being here. That's just how things are, whether anyone likes it or not. We protect this neighborhood. It's what we've always been doing. You know all this."

"I do," I respond. "But I'm not about to watch Cesar fuck up his future the way I saw you do it. And I know you're worried about him, but you ain't about to go out there looking for your brother, not when you could be here with your crew and that girl all up on you."

Oscar gives me a look of true regret, and goes, "Mamita."

"You been missing me, huh?" I pull away when I see him reach for my hands. "I ain't here for you Oscar, I'm here for Cesar."

Escaping to the backyard, I signal for Monse and Jamal to follow, and they happily do. Chulito is passed out on the sofa outside. We start the car, and begin the long drive all over town to find this boy.


	8. Chapter 8

The car comes to a slow stop in front of Monse’s house, after an hour of searching. We drove all over Freeridge, even going so far as the edge of Brentwood but turning back when Jamal pointed out how out of place Cesar would be in a nice neighborhood such as that. Abuelita’s gas was at a quarter to empty and she’d be pissed whenever she next goes out with friends. Jamal had unbuckled his seatbelt, choosing to lie down across the backseat with his gangly limbs when I decided it was getting too late, and that they should go home.

“Maybe he’ll turn up tomorrow,” I tell Monse. She grew real quiet on the drive, by the end of it all. Too young to worry about any of his gang shit, less even with being in a relationship with a Santo. I wish I could have told myself that at 16.

“And then what? He’ll just break up with me again over how dangerous it is to be with him.” Her voice cracks. I don’t say anything, letting her process her emotions, work through her logic. But Monse’s never been the type to open up to anyone and I can feel her slipping away from me already, wanting to be sad alone. “Thank you for helping, Sylvia. You’ve always been there for us.”

Squeezing her hand, I say, “Have a goodnight, Monse.”

She exits the car, and I make sure she enters the house safely before pulling away from the curb. About to head home myself, a thought picks at the back of my mind convincing me to make one last drive around Freeridge. Naturally, I don’t expect to find him but my foot presses on the gas pedal a little heavier. I pass by old roads, familiar buildings, my old high school again. It’s almost 2 AM, and the streetlights paint everything into a sickly yellow, buzzing, needing their bulbs replaced. Every time a car drives past me, I hold my breath, waiting for gunshots to follow. This is no way to live, but I’m here again.

That’s when I see a dark figure slouched on a bench, further into the heart of the city. I can’t see the face, but I recognize that slouch. I know it’s Cesar because he dresses like a mini-version of Oscar, socks pulled up to his knees. Plus, the Santo never travel alone, not at this time of night. Cesar’s a lone wolf.

I park the car right in front of him. He looks up, exhaustion wearing heavy on his face. Both Monse and him too tired for all of this. I check my phone and find three missed calls from Oscar. I’ve been letting his calls go straight to voicemail. Getting out, I call, “Been looking for you.”

Cesar shrugs, purses his lips into a thin line. His BO hits me when I sit next to him, and I try to wave the smell away, “You stink, Cesar.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what being homeless does to you. Haven’t showered,” he comments. He gives me a tight-lipped smile.

“You got a shower at home. You have a home.”

“Not with Oscar on my ass about the Prophets. I may as well be homeless.”

Frowning, I ask, “What’s going on with the Prophets?” 

He sighs heavily. Runs his hand through his short hair and then drops it, flat, realizing his long hair is gone. Pulls his hood back up and looks at the ground. Kicks his feet.

I bait him. “Monse’s been worried sick about you too.”

“I know,” he replies, exasperated. He holds his phone up. “She kept blowing up my phone, killing the battery. That’s why I turned it off. I didn’t want to be found. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You broke up with her.”

“Yeah, because it’s too risky for her to be with me. You should know that,” Cesar says, looking pointedly at me. “You dated my brother once.”

I scoff. “That doesn’t mean she can’t stop caring about you. She’s still your friend.”

Cesar snorts, mutters under his breath, “Yeah. Friend. Okay.”

I swear to God these Diaz boys. “What did the Prophets say?”

He looks at me, conflicted over whether or not to tell me. I doubt anything he says will come as a surprise. We’ve all been there at one point. “Okay,” he relents. “I’ve been getting threats from the other Prophet members about them coming for my girl. Er, coming for Monse, I mean. Oscar keeps pushing me to do something about it, to intimidate them, get them to back off.” He pleads with his eyes, hoping I understand what he means. “But I don’t wanna be in the gang. I don’t want to do that. I’m scared. I thought the best solution was to just stay away from Monse.”

Hearing the threats about Monse has me wanting to be the one rolling up on them. But this time, I sigh, and rub my temples. It’s a lot of talk at their age, but Oscar’s prideful, aware that Cesar is representing the Santos. He’s just a kid though. Hardly the gangbanger Oscar used to be at this age.

“I’ll try to talk to Oscar,” I reassure him. Can’t wait for that argument to happen. This wouldn’t be the first time. “Just please come home. And please talk to Monse.”

I stand up and hold my hand out for him to take. He stays put, voice shaky. “He’s gonna be upset knowing I ran away.”

“Cesarito,” I crouch in front of him, forcing him to look at me. “He didn’t even know you were gone until today.”

“But now he knows, right? Because you told him.”

I grab both of his hands tightly. Oscar carries his anger the same way his own father did. “If he says anything to you, I’ll deal with it.”

Cesar shakes his head, doubtful. “He went to prison. You’re not scared of him?”

“No. I’m not.” My voice is firm, but deep inside I wonder. “He can’t do anything to me, and he wouldn’t.”

The windows were left rolled down when we drove back to Oscar’s. At this late hour, the party was over even though we both knew they could have lasted all night. The lights in the house were turned on, casting shadows against the trash left behind outside onto the grass. He was waiting. Before we even stepped out, Oscar was standing at the front door with his arms crossed. He watched us walk all the way up to the door, asking, “Where you been, C?”

Cesar stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Nowhere.”

Oscar raised a brow, paying me no attention. “You take care of what I told you to take care of?” He sounded authoritative, voice deeper than normal. I hated it. It was the tone he used to demand things, implying threats if it wasn’t carried out.

“Oscar,” I step up, face to chest against him. It’s the only way to get his attention. “He just got home. Let him shower. It’s been a long night.”

Cesar takes the opportunity to duck into the house while we stand on the front porch in lamplight. A mosquito buzzes around the light with Oscar staring me down. No hint of a smile. No soft eyes. None of that.

“You know he don't belong to you?” He says, leaning against the doorway. This was the only valid point Oscar ever brought up in arguments about Cesar. I know he isn’t mine. I know I have no reason to go looking for him, caring for his wellbeing, but I do anyway.

My body feels heavy. Must be all that driving around all night. “I know that.”

“You didn’t pick up any of my calls, either. What you got a phone for?”

“I didn’t see you out there looking for him,” I snap. Oscar gives me a hard look. His eyes are glossy.

“Nobody asked you to-”

“I did it because I wanted to, this wasn’t for you!”

We were getting loud, and soon enough, everyone in the neighborhood would hear our drama. Oscar moves aside and gestures for me to enter the house. “Get inside.”

“What if-”

“We ain’t fucking arguing outside, Sylvia. You want the whole damn neighborhood to wake up?”

Glaring, I shove past him to stand in the middle of the living room while he locks the door. The shower is running, and Oscar doesn’t take a seat either. Our argument sounds like a script, rehearsed over and over again.

“Let Cesar live his own life.”

“Why’s it bother you so much, huh? Mind your own business.”

“This is hardly a healthy environment for him to grow up in, you got alcohol spilled everywhere, weed all over the place, girls too grown for him hanging around here…”

“Is this still really about Cesar? This is the same shit you used to spit at me…”

We go on like this, even when the water stops running. Even when Cesar opens the door and finds us yelling in each other’s faces, like a lot of young married couples in the hood. He slips into his room without a sound after watching us with a blank expression. I hate for him to see us like this because he’s seen enough of this from their own parents at a young age.

“Invite that hyna you had all over you earlier, see if she gives a shit about you, Oscar!”

“All I been hearing from you are about other girls, you jealous or somethin’?” Oscar’s mean when he’s angry. But he’s even meaner when he’s intoxicated.

My nails are digging into my palms so tightly, I’m shaking. “You been saying you miss me, coming over, touching me and shit, but I find you with a girl on your lap?”

“Nena,” he says, tired of my bullshit. “I hang out with a bunch of 15-year-olds, cooked dinner, and snuck over for what? You think I be doing that for fun?”

I don’t say anything, so he keeps going. “And I ain’t seeing anybody. You talk like you ain’t seeing anyone. Where’s your boyfriend? You let me fucking touch you all the time however I want, hell, you even let me go down on you.” I flinch. “You even love your boyfriend, Sylvia? Because sometimes I be thinkin’ we still got something and then you turn around and say shit like you got a boyfriend, you taken, acting like I owe you shit the way you be coming at me over these females.”

My head hurts. Oscar paces the living room, not finished with his rant, “And the fuck I’m supposed to do? Sit around and watch you be with him and not have no one around me? It’s hard, nena, seeing you with someone else. It drives me crazy, but I try to hold back witchu. Try to give you your peace, while still tryin’ to get mine, you know?”

The curtains are dusty blue, with tattered holes in them. They should be replaced. This whole house should be cleaned up, sprayed down with some disinfectant and air freshener.

“You even listenin’ to me?”

Oscar stands in front of me, looking down at me with an emotion balanced between concern and anger. He brings his hand up and it’s not until he wipes my face that I feel tears streaming. He’s right. Do I even love Alex? I want to believe I still do.

“You’re right,” I admit, wiping tears away frustrated. “I hate seeing you with other girls, Oscar. I still get jealous. You still make me feel a type of way.”

His expression softens a little. “Watchu want me to do?”

“I don’t know!” I feel delirious and lost. “I don’t know what to do with you. I’m dating someone else, but I miss you, I miss you so badly, Oscar. I don’t know what to do. You still piss me off, more than anyone in this world ever could.”

“Why you still puttin’ up with me then?”

I take a long look at Oscar. His deep brown eyes filled with nothing but concern for me right now. They used to hold the utmost adoration for me at one point in time. His lips, having kissed away all the tension in my body. His strong arms, steady, always supporting me, always carrying me when I needed him most. The strong jawline he grew into as a man after prison. I want to kiss all his hard edges. He makes me feel everything all at once, and I still kinda like it. It makes me feel alive.

Before I could come up with an answer, a knock comes from the door. We both turn towards it, unwilling to move from our spot. Thankfully, we didn’t have to. Cesar comes out of his room going straight to the front door, and the moment he opens it, Monse runs right into his arms.

They embrace, paying no mind to us. “You’re so stupid,” Monse murmurs into his chest.

He rocks her a little, and I’ve never seen so much admiration for a girl coming from Cesar. He holds her tightly, as if he’s afraid she’s going to slip away. It’s almost scary how much he needs her but doesn’t realize it. She’s his rock.

“I know,” he whispers against her hair. They retreat to his bedroom, Oscar and I taking a refreshing step away from each other. We both look away, ashamed at the way we’ve treated one another since I’ve been back to Freeridge. We were teenagers in love once. We were in their exact shoes, maybe with a little more temper. Nostalgia hits hard for me, being in this living room fighting with Oscar again. I’m so tired of being on edge all the time with him.

“All we been doing is arguing,” I say.

“Yeah.”

I sit down on the couch, relaxing into the pillows. Wanting to say more but not being able to find the right words.

Oscar grabs a blanket from the closet, drapes it over me. “You been driving all night, mamita. You’re tired.”

“I don’t wanna argue with you anymore.”

He pushes me to lie down onto a pillow and wraps the blanket around me comfortingly. My head is pounding, and my body is sore. He rubs my shoulders to get me to relax. “You should rest.”

He gets up to turn the light off, but I grab his hand. “Wait, Oscar.”

“What else you need?”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“I’mma be just in the other room, nena. I ain’t going far.”

Loneliness hits me, and I speak from my heart. “Can we sleep together? Just one night.”

Oscar raises a brow at me. “You wanna sleep with me tonight?”

My face heats up. “Just sleep! I don’t wanna be alone tonight. Don’t try anything funny.”

He chuckles, and the deep tremor of it warms me. Picking me up bridal style he says, “I’m more worried about you doin’ something to me.”

“I’m too tired to do anything.”

He carries me into his room, and it smells exactly how I remembered it. Like smoke and a little spliff of that fancy cologne he still wears. It still looks the same too. Neat. Barely any possessions owned. He places me onto his full-size mattress gently, climbing into bed beside me. He still sleeps with the mattress on the ground, with only a box spring underneath. The light is turned off, so we’re lying in the dark, nothing but our voices in the room.

“You sayin’ if you wasn’t tired, you’d try something?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Lately, I been wonderin’ about a lot of what you mean.”

It goes so quiet, I think he’s fallen asleep. His breathing calms me, and I start to drift off into dreamland.

“You never answered my question,” he says, voice sounding muffled. I reach my hand over and rub his back.

“Which one?” I mumble, sleep pulling me further in. I hear the sound of his deep voice but I swear, it vibrates over my skin, soothing me into the dark. Nothing to worry about.


	9. Chapter 9

The first time I wake up, I see Oscar’s back, shirtless, smooth brown skin. Sun rays filter through the blinds and it caresses his skin. So warm I want to place my hands against his back just to see if I can feel the sun’s temperature through him. The second time I wake up, I had a dream about Oscar kissing my forehead, briefly and lovingly. The third and final time I wake up, I’m alone and I can’t remember which part of Oscar is a dream, but I do know I shouldn’t be lying in another man’s bed when I have someone waiting on me.

The blanket is wrapped around me tight, and the smell of bacon and eggs floats its way into the room. My stomach grumbles in response. But I have more pressing matters to tend to. Something I’ve been putting off for too long.

I grab my phone and immediately call Alex on speed dial. He picks up first ring.

_“Hey.”_

“We need to talk.”

Silence. _“Is everything okay? Are you okay?”_

“Yeah,” I sigh. I run my hands through my wild, tangled hair. “No. Maybe. I think.”

He lets out a nervous laugh. _“It’s about us.”_

My stomach sinks. Does he know the things I’ve done?

_“You’ve talked to me less ever since you went back home. I feel distant from you but I’m trying not to let it get to me. I’ve been patiently waiting until we meet up again so we could figure things out, get back to normal.”_

“No,” I say, abuptly. “I mean, I don’t think there’s any point in you coming.”

I feel his confusion through the phone. _“What do you mean there’s no point?”_

“Maybe this isn’t the best way to do it,” I start. “I hate doing things over the phone, you know that.” He stays quiet, waiting for me to say what he knows I’m about to say. In a way, I’m hurting a part of myself for doing this to him. “Alex.”

_“I’m listening.”_

“I’ve been confused. About us, about my feelings for you. I’ve been going through a lot over here and I just think it’d be best if we broke up, took some time away from each other.” I feel like I’m pleading, despite having the power of where this relationship is going. He doesn’t say anything, so I ramble. “You’re busy with your career and I’m busy trying to set up a life here. I just don’t think we have our best interests in each other’s hearts. You ain’t really about to come to Freeridge and be a cop here and start a family here, right? I’m trying to give back to my community. This is my community.”

_“I don’t understand. Do you think I haven’t been giving you enough attention? I’ve been trying to call you, text you, but you don’t-”_

“No, no,” I say. “Alex, you’ve been wonderful. You’ve been amazing. You’ve been one of the greatest boyfriends I’ve ever had. You’ve always been there for me. You’re my best friend.” Tears prick at my eyes. “But you deserve someone who’s good to you.”

_“You’re good for me,”_ he says, quiet. _“You’re more than enough. You’re the only person I want.”_

Hearing that hurts me, like a physical blow to the stomach. I feel like someone just stabbed me with a knife and turned the blade real slow, letting the damage sink in and increasing it tenfold. If only Alex knew what I had done. If only I was brave enough to tell him. He deserves nothing but the truth. He deserves to know how shitty of a person I am.

But it’s a hard thing to do as much as I want to convince myself to confess. So all I tell him is, “I’m not. Alex, I’m a bad person to be with, a horrible person especially for you to be with. Trust me on this.”

_“Do you still love me?”_

“What? Why are you asking me that?”

_“Do you?”_

I hesitate. All I’ve been telling myself is that I think I do. I think, I think, I think. And if you’re questioning whether you love someone, then maybe it isn’t so.

“I don’t know if I love you.”

It’s quiet on the other side of the line, save for the sound of him exhaling. Hard.

Finally, he says, _“This came out of nowhere, Sylvia. What’s really going on? We’ve been together for so long and one day you decide to pick up the phone and tell me you don’t love me? It doesn’t make sense.”_

“I’m sorry,” is all I say.

_“I gotta go,”_ he says, suddenly. _“But Sylvia, we’re going to talk about this okay? We’re going to talk this out. I’m still coming.”_

“Alex,” I stress.

_“It’ll be better in person, you like talking in person. Just wait for me, okay? Gotta go. Talk to you later.”_

I close my eyes and drag my hand down my face. “Okay. Bye.”

We hang up. I lie in bed staring up at the empty walls thinking of the many ways I could go about telling Alex about Oscar. Or not tell him. But he deserves the truth, I remind myself. We went through too much together the past couple of years, and he’s had a positive effect on my life. He’s not quite home, but he was supposed to be my future.

Stepping out of bed and finding the bathroom feels natural to me. I find the stash with all the extra toothbrushes, not wanting to know what they were for, and brush my teeth like it’s my house. My hair is wild and the bags under my eyes didn’t help. I’m a mess.

Oscar sits at the dining table with two breakfast plates ready, but his is already halfway gone. I sit at the other plate and start to eat slowly. It’s a quiet breakfast, neither of us speaking about the events having taken place last night.

“You sleep well?” He breaks the silence, fork scraping against ceramic.

“Yeah.” I glance at the clock. It says 10 AM. “Is Cesar at school?”

“There’s no school on Saturday.”

Oh. “Where is he?”

Oscar gets up to put his plate in the sink. “Went out with his girl earlier this morning.”

Relief washes over me. I trust Monse with Cesar, and no one else. She’s hardheaded, resilient, and good for him. But it could be bias from having watched them grow up together. But for now, she was good for him.

I finish my plate and carry it to the sink where he was leaned against the counter, watching me like he knows too much or something.

I lean against the counter opposite of him, unsure of where we stand. “She’s a good girl. They’re both good kids.”

Oscar rubs his chin, nodding. “Cesar and her been steady. I like her. Reminds me a lot of you back in the day.”

Monse and I? “What do you mean?”

“The way she come marching over here in Santos territory for him,” he chuckles. “That girl ain’t afraid of nothin’.”

I laugh, and it feels good to, because I feel like I haven’t been in a good mood for days. And good things don’t seem to last. There’s a brief silence before he says, “I heard your conversation this morning.”

“Oh, yeah?” My smile fades.

“You sure you makin’ the right decision here, nena?”

“Since when have you ever been worried about my decisions?” I raise a brow.

“All the time,” he says. “Before we even started dating, I was questionin’ you. Good, smart girl wantin’ to date a Santo?” He smiles and shakes his head.

“Hey, I was questioning my decisions too,” I say. “But I knew once we started dating, I didn’t make a mistake. You ain’t that scary.”

“You ain’t afraid of me?” he asks, arms wide. “My name’s Spooky.”

“Your name is Oscar. Oscar Diaz.” I grin. “You’re not Spooky to me.”

He moves so he’s right in front of me, giving me that mean mug he gives, looking me up and down. “You forget what I been through?”

“No,” I say, part of me wondering if he’s just joking right now. I know what that teardrop tattoo means.

He brings his rough hand up to cup my cheek and trails it down to my neck. His eyes are suddenly so cold and void of any emotion that maybe killing someone killed something in him as well. And then I vividly realize that the hands belonging to a killer was resting on my neck right now. In one easy motion, he could strangle me, snap my neck. How much did prison change a person? How well did I actually know Oscar now? 4 years later?

“You scared to be around me?” He asks, with the eyes of a killer.

“No,” I say, never breaking eye contact.

“You trust me?”

“No.” I resist the urge to shiver against his hand. A smile plays at his lips.

With that, he drops his hand but doesn’t take a step back. “I thought you was happy with your novio. Sayin’ he a good guy, ambitious, wanna be a cop.”

“I was,” I say, looking at the ground. “But I don’t know now, I’m just confused.”

“Is it ‘cause of me? Did I ruin a good thing between you two?”

“Nah. I did. I ruined it.”

“'Cause you still care about me.”

I shrug. “You could say that. But you’re like, home to me, you know?”

Oscar moves to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me to him like we never stopped being close. “Home. You think I’m home to you?”

“Yeah,” I breathe out, looking up at him. “I feel comfortable with you. At peace.”

“You still want me? Because I still want you.”

“I know you do,” I roll my eyes. “We’ve done things Oscar.”

He has a hungry look in his eye. “Yeah, we kissed, and I made you feel good, mamita.”

“Yeah, that happened.” It was bound to happen, knowing us. His hands rub circles into my lower back.

“You single now.”

“Mhmm.”

“Means we can fuck and you ain’t all that bad of a person.”

I blink. “Oh no, no way! Oscar!” I lean away from him, but he has a strong hold of me. “Just because I’m officially single now doesn’t mean we’re fucking!”

“Aw, come on. Like we used to?” He’s grinning, almost mischievously, and my pulse speeds up. I think of doing intimate things with him and almost give in to the idea until I realize it’s noon and I still have Abuelita’s car.

“Shit,” I mutter. “The car. Abuelita’s. I have to return it. And I drove around all night so it’s low on gas, she’s gonna be mad at me.”

Oscar reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He tries to hand me a 20 dollar bill, but I shake my head and start to gather all my things from his bedroom. He follows me, nearly hovering.

“Just take it, you need it.”

“No,” I say, shoving my phone into my pocket and looking around for the keys. “It’s yours, Oscar. I don’t want any handouts.”

“Pay me back then. I’ll let you borrow,” he tells me, knowing damn well he wasn't gonna let me pay him back.

I look underneath the bed and on the dresser. “Where are the keys?”

Oscar trails behind me into the living room. “Take this 20 and maybe I’ll tell you.”

“Nice try,” I mumble. I dig through the couch, finding nastier things in them than I wanted to, and feeling like I need to wash my hands. “This place is filthy.”

Then I hear keys jingle, and it’s being held up in his hand. “Take the money.”

I stand my ground. “Give me the keys, asshole.”

He smirks. “Don’t be difficult, nena.”

“That’s all I know how to be,” I grin, taking a step toward him. He holds it up higher as I reach for it, on tiptoes. “Por favor, she’s gonna kill me!”

“She’ll kill you less if it’s got gas in it.”

“Stupid, you can’t kill anyone less,” I grumble, but knowing he’s got a point. “I’ll take it then, but you’ll get it back.”

He hands me the twenty dollars and keys at the same time, and I grudgingly put the twenty in my pocket.

“Hey,” he says before I walk out the door. I’ve got my hand on the knob already, and when I turn to look at him his lips are on mine. They move tenderly against me, and I wrap my arms around his neck, bringing him closer to me like we have time. Without shame, without guilt. His hands rest on my waist, heavy, and we kiss each other like we’ve been longing to do under the right circumstances. He kisses me like how he used to, always wanting more, needing more. When he pulls away first, a trace of disappointment tugs at my chest and he laughs, recognizing my expression.

“You gotta go,” he reminds me.

“Just one more kiss,” I say, and pull him down towards me. We kiss again, except this time he kisses me harder, hands rubbing my sides, itching for lower. I sigh against him, body relaxing into him and he holds me tighter. His hand reaches into my shirt, travelling toward my chest.

“Oscar,” I sigh, pulling away now, and wanting him even more.

“We can make it quick,” he grins, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb.

I roll my eyes. “No, Oscar, we ain’t fucking.”

“That’s not what you were sayin’ with your lips.”

I can’t help but smile. “Maybe next time though.”

He laughs, genuinely. “Always gonna be a next time with you.”

Opening the door, I say, “Sí, if you willing to wait that long.”

“I got all the patience in the world, mamita. Just for you.”

Smiling, I shake my head and shut the door on him knowing full well we’ll see each other again. I shouldn’t be hanging around Oscar, but like home, people always find their way back. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed between he and I, he’ll always have a soft spot with me. Feels like he’ll always be my home, and I'll always keep coming back.


	10. Chapter 10

June was a happy month, with school being let out and the summer arriving just around the corner, and ice cream trucks calling all the hyper kids; even the shy ones over, and people out barbecuing in the park as one big happy family. The month of June could be described as Oscar. The beginning of longer days and warmer mornings. Parties once a week on a Friday, carrying over into Saturday, and then a few days of rest and business, only to do it all over again on a Friday.

Mario comes home the middle of June, surprising all of us. I smile real big until it hurts and run over to him, tackling him into a hug. Mario’s my favorite cousin, being that we’re closer in age and can go places without me feeling like a babysitter. No offense to Ruby and the twins.

“You and Angelica broke up, right?” I ask him in my room, towel patting my hair dry.

Mario swivels around in my desk chair, excited to be catching up. “Ah, yeah. We did after you left for college a long time ago. Not like I still miss her or anything.”

Mario was an idiot, but he was my idiot. Angelica could step all over him, talk to as many other Santos members as she wanted, and he’d still go running in the rain over to her house with flowers and chocolate. Ruby picked up his sweetness from Mario.

“I hear you’ve been hanging out with Oscar more,” he says. “What happened to Alex?”

“We broke up,” I tell him, sparing any details. “The distance just wasn’t working out for us.”

He nods, not interested in digging up information. I always appreciated that about him. “So there’s a Santos party going on this weekend? You trying to go?”

I grin. “Yeah, I’m down. You better not be crying when you see Angelica again though, don’t embarrass me.”

“Angelica still goes to those things?” His eyes look hopeful, but my expression makes him quickly mutter, “Nah, man, I don’t cry anymore.”

So tell me why when Friday comes Mario is the furthest away from Angelica, who is flirting with Chulito by the way, and his eyes are watery. Any time he thinks someone isn’t looking, he dabs at his tears with his sleeves.

“It’s the alcohol, you know how much it burns going down,” he tells me when I stand before him, arms crossed with a face of ‘I told you so.’ We’re in the backyard, having let ourselves in since Mario is one of the more respected non-Santo members. This party is more chill, and I texted Oscar letting him know we were on the way but haven’t seen him yet. He ran to the store to pick up more drinks with his friends, but assured me he’d be back and to take care of the party for him. As if I was a Santos member.

“Mario,” I grab his drink from him. “You’re getting emotional, look at you!”

“Look at her,” he gestures, a little sloppy, toward Angelica. “Look how happy she is!”

“You need to socialize. This isn’t how you should be spending time at parties,” I grab his arms to pull him up. He stumbles but catches himself. “You should go wash up in the bathroom, dry your tears, and then come back out a man. And less of a miserable mess.”

I push him toward the inside of the house, and he finds his way, a little lost, but he gets there.

Lately at the parties, they’ve been looking at me like I’m one of them, and I hear whispers of “That’s Spooky’s girl” or “You mess with her, you mess with Spooky.” We aren’t official, but it’s not like we’re looking for anybody else at the parties with the way he pulls me close to him on the sofa and rests his hand on my thigh as a message. Even Chulito’s backed off, momentarily forgetting the way I ditched him the first time we met. Oscar doesn’t give any other girl more than a second’s glance when they try to joke with him, and he sure doesn’t let them near. I don’t know if he does it consciously or without even realizing it but anytime a girl so much as comes near him, he leans back, faces his torso a little bit away from them, nods like he’s listening to what they say. He lets his friends do all the talking with them while he watches me, his gaze tracing my lips, down to my neck, to my hands, to what feels like every inch of me. Like he’s looking at nobody else but me in the room. Oscar tries hard to make me feel comfortable again too, jokes around when others tease me, smiles like he’s proud of me when I hit them with a good comeback. And he’s good at filling me in on what they’re talking about, spinning the information into a funny story they can laugh at, avoiding the more serious things they’ve done.

I feel almost like a Santo girl, like maybe this is how my life would have turned out if I wasn’t smart enough to go to college. But to be in the shadow of the person you’re with is no way to live, even if it means always being taken care of.

Oscar comes home with two of his friends carrying bags of the drinks they bought. He sees me by the bathroom door, listening for Mario, when he puts the bags down on the counter to make his way toward me.

“Hey,” he looks around real quick to see if anyone is looking, because he doesn’t want an audience, and kisses me. Deep. With tongue.

“Mm,” I pull away. “If you kiss me like that some more, we might have to party in your bedroom.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” hands pulling me in closer by the waist. “Watchu doin’ outside the bathroom?”

“Mario,” I sigh. “He saw Angelica. Doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

“I didn’t know he still wanted her.”

“They just didn’t end very well, that’s all.”

“He know she let almost any Santo member between her legs?”

“You gonna tell him that? That’d be a weird way to recruit a member.”

Oscar laughs loud, and shrugs. “You gonna stand out here all night waiting for him?”

“He’s just emotional, Oscar, he needs the support,” I frown. I knock on the door. “Mario? You done crying?”

Oscar raises a brow at me.

The door swings open as Mario says, “Sylvia, don’t say that so loud, you want them to hear?”

He stops short when he sees Oscar and breaks into a wide smile. “Oscar, bro.”

“Wassup homie? You cryin’ over your ex in my bathroom?”

Mario gives me a look. “Nah, I just drank some really strong alcohol, been awhile you know. Universities are really strict about drinking.”

I roll my eyes when Oscar glances down at me, and Mario continues, seeing Oscar’s hand wrapped around my side, “You two look good together though, reminds me of when we were 18, senior year of high school. You with Oscar and me with Angelica…”

We exchange glances, and I tell Mario, “You need to go talk to some of the girls here, they like a smart guy from the hood. Impress them with your knowledge. Open up their minds.”

“I want someone who likes me for me. All the girls here like gangbangers,” he sighs. Dejected.

I was about to tell him surely not all the girls here, when Chulito appears around the corner and barges past us into the bathroom. The door slams shut behind him and we’re blessed with the sound of his retching. I’m starting to think he needs a limit on his drinking because that boy cannot hold it down.

Angelica shows up a few seconds behind him, looking concerned. Her face shifts into confusion, then recognition, and then she’s giving Mario a big hug while he stands there awkwardly.  
“Mario! It’s been so long, where you been at?”

He stumbles back and says, “You know, at university doing uh… university things. You still live in Freeridge?”

“Yeah!” Angelica flips her hair and she reeks of booze. “Just doing my thing. Your prima here and Spooky are the cutest though, I be seeing you two at these parties.” She gives me a wink and I half-heartedly smile back.

Oscar kisses my cheek, for show, and Angelica practically swoons over it. “You lucky to be his girl. I haven’t seen him like this with any other female beside you, Sylvia.”

“Oh, yeah?” I raise my brows at Oscar who shrugs, acting like he hasn’t been telling me this. Any time I ask, he says no one came close to taking my place, and I doubted it. Thought he was feeding my ego. He always said it was just physical, and that no other girl held his loyalty like I did. Since I broke it off with my boyfriend, Oscar’s stayed true to his word, treating me like I’m the only girl in his life. I don’t ask who he’s slept with, and I don’t want to know, but he confidently stated, “Hell no,” when I looked over at a passed-out Angelica at one of the parties. When asked about how many, he said, “As many times as I make you come,” before going down on me one night. Four girls he’s hooked up with since he got let out from prison. Less than I imagined, so I was relieved. Each a one-time thing, and half not having gone all the way.

“So, Angelica,” Mario says, to get her attention. “You wanna go take a shot and catch up or something?”

“Yeah, let’s do it!” she smiles at him and he looks panicked, like he didn’t expect her to say yes. Wrapping her arm through his, she pulls him along and says, “Tell me all about university and what it’s like!”

Mario looks back at us, calling out, “You guys wanna join?”

“Drink for the both of us,” Oscar says back, Angelica completely forgetting about her friend Chulito in the bathroom. They disappear from the hallway. He turns to me, arm still wrapped around my waist. “You hear that, nena? She says you lucky to be with me.”

“Who said we’re together?” I say, grinning. “Not all the girls here like gangbangers.”

Oscar pulls me to him, forgetting we’re at party. “But I like smart girls.” He kisses me, moving to the side of my neck, the spot he knows I like while squeezing my ass. I stifle a moan, and he says, low, “Bedroom?”

“For a little bit,” I say, surrendering, and he leads me to the bedroom, hands never leaving my body.

At every party, and in between, we fool around. The breakup left me feeling free to do what I wanted with who I wanted. And the only person I ever wanted to do anything with was Oscar. It was hard to stay away from each other now. His name was a cry on my lips when he brought me to ecstasy in the mornings, no need for any coffee to wake me up better than he did. He cursed my name in the steamy showers we took together, unwinding his tension with my mouth. Washing all the stress away down the drain. But that wasn’t all we were.

I’d never known myself to be cold blooded and being with anyone for a long enough time would leave a hole in your life when they’re gone. It happened with Oscar. What made me think it wouldn’t happen with Alex? Alex was a soft echo of what I constantly wished was Oscar and me during university. I loved Alex, in a different way. I loved him more like a best friend, and not a lover. So sometimes, when I lied awake at night in Oscar’s bed, turned away from him, staring blankly at the wall, he held me a little tighter. No questions, no comments. He kept me company, so I wasn’t completely alone with my thoughts.

Once, when we went grocery shopping for the house, I saw rice crackers in one of the aisles, the kind that’s wrapped in green packaging with a mild hint of coconut. Without even thinking, I said, “Alex loves these.” And Oscar replied, “Yeah? They’re pretty good. Wanna get some for Cesar?” But I had put them back on the shelf, because I was never a big fan of them but someone out there was.

Certain songs played on Oscar’s radio when we cruised around and I’d get quiet, mid-conversation, wanting to listen to the rest of the song before resuming the topic again. Oscar never bugged me during, except one time to say, “College kids really love this song, eh? Why don’t you sing it to me?” I had shaken my head but sang the rest of the lyrics for him anyway because he had missed my singing. I haven’t really sung anything since high school, and I guess I had missed it too.

Leaving someone’s life was a process, and Oscar let me go through the stages. He let me remember, allowed me to feel sad sometimes, didn’t try to distract me by touching or anything when I was going through it. And in his own way, he was proving something to me.

Oscar pulls me on top of him and we make out heavily. Lots of tongue, playful nipping, and hands rubbing deeper. The bass from the music pounds through the walls and we can hear people outside playing beer pong and shouting about a technicality, and what the real rules of the game are. I grind against him, with his hands on my hips, and he kisses my collarbone, gently sucking. I feel him twitching below his shorts.

“You know I want to fuck you.”

“I know.”

“Why you been teasin’ me the last few weeks, nena?” We only ever did foreplay and oral, not having gone all the way.

I kiss along his jawline. “I just feel like it’s too soon, you know? Just broke up with him less than a month ago, wanna give it some time.” I also wasn’t ready. I was scared to get that intimate with Oscar, never knowing if he’d just drop me right after doing it. Just because I felt comfortable with him, didn’t mean that I trusted him 100%.

Oscar gives me a long, hard look. “Okay,” he says, respecting my space. “Whatever you wanna do, I’ll do.”

“Thank you,” I kiss him, and moan into his mouth when he rubs my clit underneath my dress.

“You be looking way too good at these parties,” he says, hiking my dress up. It was tight on me, and a little short, but accentuated my curves. It was hard for Oscar not to feel possessive over me when some of the other Santos members would stare. If they were caught looking by Oscar, they immediately turned the other way, whistling like they didn’t see anything.

He slips his fingers into me, easily, like they belong there, and I move against them wanting more. There’s something about me riding his fingers that gets him more turned on, like he likes seeing me get off to him. Like he likes feeling how wet I am for him.

He curls his fingers so he’s hitting me in that pleasure spot, and I try hard to stay quiet, biting down on his shoulder because his window is slightly cracked. He keeps his pace steady, bringing me closer so I’m clenching his arms with both my hands and pressing my face against his shoulder.

“Oscar,” I whimper, climax building the longer he goes. I pant harder, and it only encourages him.

“You’re so wet, baby. You gotta be quieter than this.”

I stifle a moan and throw my head back, hating the way he talks dirty to me when I’m like this.

“You’re close, I can feel you. Just a little more, right there,” he coaxes, and it pushes me over the edge, and I tremble against him, face shoved into his neck. My body shakes with pleasure and I know he gets a kick out of it every time because he wants to kiss the side of my neck that’s most sensitive and watch me squirm some more. My moans are muffled against his skin, and I end up leaving scratch marks along his shoulders during the moment.

I collapse against him, hair messed up, dress too high, and legs splayed like a rag doll as I take a breather. He kisses my forehead and strokes my hair back and away from my face. I’m sure it’s as flushed as I feel.

I don’t tell him I love him, but I feel electric running through my veins, and it feels like my heart swells up with a feeling I can’t describe, and I want to return the favor. When I start stroking him through his pants, he raises a brow and says, “We gotta get back to the party sometime.”

But he doesn’t stop me when I pull his shorts and boxers off, doesn’t stop me when I place my mouth onto him. He even goes so far as to place his hand on the back of my head, entwining his fingers through my hair and pulls me closer, watching me go deeper. “Fuck,” he groaned.

The rest of the party carried on like usual, everyone drinking and smoking and some of us having too good of a time. But this was normal for June, as normal as it could get for Oscar and I. We had a problem with wanting to make up the 4 years without each other’s touch. Who could blame us? By the time we were done, the party still wasn’t over, and we went back out there and partied with the rest of them. He never left my side.


	11. Chapter 11

Alex shows up a few weeks earlier, at the end of June, during dinner with the family. Abuelita takes him into her arms, being cautious so as not to smash the bouquet of roses he’s holding that I know can’t be for me. There wasn’t a warning text, a phone call notice, nothing to let me know he would be here sooner than expected. I thought I had a month left to gather all my thoughts and figure out what to say to him.

I can sense Mario and Ruby’s eyes on me, but I’m seeing Alex, while not really seeing him. He looks built now, more toned, muscles more defined making Oscar look smaller in comparison despite standing at 6 foot something. My aunt and uncle look happy at his intrusion though.

He walks over, and the light from the dinner table make his skin glow, like he hadn’t been dragged out of bed at the academy at the crack of dawn running drills for three months.

“How’ve you been?” Ruby smiles at him, welcoming him in. My fork lies untouched on my half-eaten plate.

“Doing pretty good,” he says, while my aunt fixes him up a plate like he belongs here. With the way he casually set the flowers down on the sofa, he may as well be living here. Everyone fawns over him except for Mario who keeps glancing at me. Even the twins are excited to see Alex, because of course, he brought candy for them.

“After dinner,” he tells them, making my aunt give him one of her genuine smiles, reserved only when one of us kids does something to make her proud. She hasn’t been smiling like that at me since Oscar started picking me up from the house.

Without saying a word, I get up to put my plate away in the sink. Nobody notices, and Alex hasn’t said a word to me which should have been unusual for my family earlier, but now is when Tía Geny wants to reprimand me, “Aren’t you going to say hello to your novio? Don’t be rude, he brought flowers.”

“Hi Alex,” I put on my fakest smile. “It’s a surprise to see you here this early.”

His expression falters a bit, like he’s trying to figure out where my mood is coming from. I’m still trying to figure that out myself.

“I finished last week. Figured, why wait? I would have been killing time there anyway.”

I nod, half listening. As far as everyone except Mario knows, we’re still together. As far as Ruby knows, he thinks I’m two-timing Alex. He refused to talk to me for the past month, which both upsets me and doesn’t, because that just means Cesar feels closer to me. It’s hard keeping the two around without some sort of younger brother-like rivalry.

“I’m heading to my room,” I let whoever is listening know, but they resume their conversations, and Abuelita laughs the hardest that I feel like she might be laughing at me.

A knock comes at my door long after dinner is over, and I set the book I’m reading down. Now is the time. I’ve had enough weeks running away from my fears of confessing to Alex what I had done with Oscar. So why am I dreading it still? It’s not like Alex and I haven’t talked things over in the past when it came to his exes. Especially Jennifer. One time at a college party, she claimed she was drunk out of her mind and didn’t remember trying to make out with Alex. He gently pushed her away, but I was livid, wanted to grab her by the hair and shove her face into the glass sliding door. I could have been arrested that night, could have ended up relating to Oscar on a different level. Maybe he would have been impressed, if things had gone that way.

The flowers come first, followed by Alex. His face is wider, having the opportunity to be well fed and taken care of at the police academy, and he let his facial hair grow out. It blends into his thick, curly hair that he keeps tied up in a man bun I used to find sexy. Well, I still kindof do. He looks grown, like he knows what he’s doing. But he’s always known what he was doing, he’s always had a vision for his future.

“I told you there was no point in you coming,” I state, leaning against the doorway.

“I heard what you said, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk it out in person. I want to know why. Is it something I did?”

I look at him hard. He’s keeping his face neutral, relaxed. I wonder if they teach cops how to hide their emotions in the academy.

Sighing, I say, “Let’s talk on the front porch, outside.” My room feels too small for this.

Alex sits on the bottom step, leans with his back against the pole so he can still see me. I sit on the top step, staring straight ahead at the neighbor’s lawn which has little American flags posted along the edge.

“So,” I start. He waits. I don’t continue. My hands fidget with the hem of my shorts. The sun is already setting, if I wait any longer it’ll be night.

I ran into my ex,” I blurt out.

“Oscar?” I flinch at his name coming out of Alex’s mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Am I finally going to learn about him?” Alex teases. But his smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

A thread comes loose from my shorts and I resist the urge to rip it off. “We kissed.” And did other things, but a kiss is enough to classify as cheating.

“When?”

“The first party I went to when I got back home.”

Alex is silent, doesn’t even look at me. Probably putting two and two together, the lack of communication from my side, the unresponsiveness.

When he finally speaks, it’s to ask, “Did you two have sex?”

“No.” That, I can be honest about.

“Why did you do it?”

Biting my lip, I answer, “Because at first I was drunk, but then I started hanging out with him some more, and I missed him.”

“You never brought him up except for maybe once or twice when you were with me.” He looks confused.

“I know. I didn’t like to talk about him and remember what happened.”

Alex looks real hard at me. And as if he’s just now realizing where I’m from, the community I truly belong to, says, “He’s a gang member, isn’t he?”

I attempt a smile. “You got it.”

A flash of disappointment crosses his face, probably concluding that I was one of those girls who got dumped because their little gangbanger boyfriend got locked up. I’m different now. I didn’t wait around for Oscar’s release. Didn’t even know when he had been, just knew he was released for about 9 months now. Alex is a cop though, and he’s going to have judgments about criminals. And he’s going to judge the people associated with them.

“You didn’t strike me as that kind of girl.”

My gaze cuts toward him. “What kind of girl?”

Shrugging, he says, “The kind of girl who’d be into criminals.”

“I’m not into criminals,” I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “I was into him.”

“Sylvia.” Now he looks like he wants to roll his eyes at me. “He’s a criminal.”

“But he’s a person before everything, Alex, you know that. It’s not like they’re born bad,” I say, almost defensively. Then I think of how it runs through their family, destined to be a Santo, to live and die as a Santo. I think of Cesar, and how hard it is for him to get away from his family without feeling alone.

“You already sound like one of them.”

“One of who?”

“Those girls that hang off of their arms, and everything else they say.” He shakes his head, and I inhale sharp.

Standing up, I say, “It’s my job to help them out. It’s my job to see them as individuals, the juveniles. If you can’t understand that, then maybe you should get going.”

Alex scrambles up too. “I wasn’t talking about the juveniles; we’re talking about your ex.”

“But it’s how I see them too. Criminals, those little gangbangers running the streets. At the end of the day, they are people who were forced or had no choice but to live this kind of lifestyle. I’m not saying it’s good, but I’m saying these are real people who are more than what their actions says about them.”

“So you want to be with Oscar then?” He says to my back when I turn to go inside.

“I just don’t think I should be with you because I kissed Oscar,” I say, turning toward him. Alex stands there, somehow not looking angry.

“But you were drunk, you said.”

“But that wasn’t the only time,” I confess. “I kissed him when I was sober too.”

Hurt flits across his face, but he responds, “I still love you.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I go inside to find Abuelita, Mario, and Ruby obsessively watching TV. They avoid all eye contact with me and suddenly, I don’t want to be here. Grabbing the keys, I tell Abuelita, “I’ll be back.”

“Huh?” She responds, acting preoccupied with the show. “Okay, mija, just don’t wreck my car.”

Alex is still outside when I pass by him and asks, “Are you going to see him?”

“Yeah. It’s over between us Alex. I’m sorry.”

“I have to go back to the academy in a month, but it looks like I’m going to graduate successfully.”

“Congratulations,” I tell him. “You made it.”

His expression is somber. “Yeah. I did. Remember all that talk about marriage that we wanted?”

“That you wanted,” I clarify.

“I still think you’re the one, Sylvia. I can forgive you for this, move past it. You don’t think he actually wants to be with you, right?”

“You don’t know him,” I reply, irritated. Alex just looks at me with know-it-all eyes.

“Be safe,” he says, before going back into the house. I hate that my family lets him in. Hate that he could be right, but most of all, I hate myself for getting into this situation in the first place.

The lights at Oscar’s are on, and I use the key to let myself in. Oscar’s eating a late dinner by himself at the dining table, doesn’t even hear me come in. The house is cleaner than when I first showed up here. I threw away a great deal of trash, wiped down the grimy windows, replaced the curtains with gold yellow. At the time, Oscar didn’t say anything but watched me instead.

“Whatchu doin’ that for?” He had asked when I took down the dusty blue curtains.

“Cleaning up.”

“You don’t gotta do that,” Oscar responded. “It’s not like you livin’ here.”

“It’s not for you,” I had fibbed. “It’s for Cesar.”

Since then, he’s let me help clean up the place even though Cesar is hardly home these days. Sometimes I like to tell myself that Oscar doesn’t mind it, maybe even remembers talk of getting a house together and living as a family a long time ago.

“Hey,” I say, and Oscar jumps a little when he hears me. He turns around so abruptly, I’d never seen him this startled. When he sees it’s just me, his shoulders drop, and he exhales relief.

“You good?” I ask, rubbing his shoulders. He’s unusually tense. The plate sits in front of him, looks like it went cold. I wonder how long he’d been sitting here by himself.

“Sí, it’s just been a long day,” he answers, implying more. He doesn’t explain, but he pulls me to him and rests his head against my chest, arms around my waist. After a few minutes of this, I lean back and cup his face in my hands. Rough from stubble. He looks at me with tired, dark eyes, and when I kiss him, he kisses back softly, as if he shouldn’t be. Then he kisses me with more intensity like he’s made up his mind. It feels different, less playful, less just fooling around.

I feel breathless when I pull away. Thoughts of Alex voicing Oscar as bad float through my mind, and it’s hard to see Alex’s point with Oscar holding me close to him, almost like he needs me. But then, there are things he doesn’t tell me. Things I don’t need to know, like what he’d been up to all day to make him like this. I know better than to ask. Don’t get involved and I’ll sleep easier at night.

“Oscar,” I murmur. “Your food.”

“Done with it,” he responds, moving to kiss my collarbone.

“Yeah,” I say, untangling myself from him. Grabbing the plate, I dump the contents into the trash and place it in the sink, running the water to make it easier for washing later.

Oscar watches my every move, like he’s studying me trying to figure out why I’m still here. “You eat already?”

“Yeah,” I say, turning off the faucet. “Ate a while ago.”

“How was your day?”

I sit beside him at the table and he grabs my hand, mindlessly stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“Good. I… Got a surprise visit from Alex.”

Oscar raises a brow. “He showed up?”

“Yeah, no text or call or anything. Even brought me flowers to make up.”

“You tell him you’re with me?”

“Yeah,” I say, though I’m not sure if he’s asking literally or generally.

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss me again. When I bite his bottom lip, he stands to pick me up and we land on the sofa, Oscar pinning me down. His hands are quick to stroke my thighs, between my legs, and I sigh against him, forgetting my encounter with Alex.

“Is Cesar home?” I ask between kisses, lips feeling bruised and tender.

Oscar mutters what sounds to be a no, followed with, “I wouldn’t be doin’ this to you if he was.”

Letting Oscar undress me in seconds was something new. I’d never been completely naked in front of him, never any reason to. He sucks in a breath, amazed at what he sees, and I get chills when he goes down on me, fondling my breast with his free hand. He licks against me with fervor, and like we haven’t touched at all this entire month.

I arch my back against him, turned on fast from how quick he moved tonight. His finger slides into me easily, back and forth, my moans filling the empty house.

“We’re gonna get your couch dirty,” I pant, heat rising. Oscar ignores me, uses his tongue to shut me up. I feel desperation coming off him and can’t place the reason for it. Instead, I whimper against his hardness, his roughness and it makes him move instinctually against me.

“I want you,” he says low against me, enticing me further to climax. I’m close, so close.

“Keep going,” I beg, moving my hips rhythmically against his face. “Almost there.”

Oscar doesn’t stop, giving me all the pleasure in the world when I come, again and again, my body shakes against him. My hands grasp at his shoulders, feeling the old scratches I left against him one of the former nights. I collapse from one of the best orgasms he’d given me, and he slips a finger into me again.

“You’re so wet for me,” he says, while stroking himself.

“Mm,” I respond. “You touch me so good.”

There’s a serious look in his eye when he says, “I want you.”

I know what he’s saying without really saying it. I didn’t expect the night Alex showing up would be the night the both of us lose our restraint on each other, what little we had left of it. When I stay quiet, Oscar removes his clothes, placing himself before me. He rolls on a condom, and rubs himself against me. It feels good, my body anticipating him, legs opening wider for easy access. He takes both of my wrists and pins them above me, completely exposed. More exposed than I had been since hanging out with him. I feel like Oscar’s seeing all of me tonight, and he wants all of me.

“You good?” he asks, pressing against me, wanting to make sure I’m okay with this.

“Yeah,” I breathe. Feels like maybe this might be what I needed for the past few weeks. Maybe for him too.

Oscar pushes into me, slowly, savoring the feeling of being inside of me, remembering how we used to have sex when we were teenagers. More clumsy, messy, but unable to resist each other. It’s still like that but without the clumsiness, more natural now. He knows what he wants, and he knows who he is. He moves against me slow, eyes closed, brows furrowed like he’s trying to hold back.

The sounds coming out of me are deeper, fulfilling, and I think it pushes him over the edge because he starts moving faster. When we look at each other, both of us breathing heavy, he kisses me rough, teeth scraping against my own.

My arms and legs are wrapped against him tight, like I can’t get him close enough. He’s hitting me deeper that way.

“You too good for me,” he murmurs, low under his breath, and I remember Alex calling him a criminal.

“Oscar,” I moan when he moves his hips a certain way. Without thinking, “I love you” slips from my mouth into his shoulder like a kiss. My face heats up. I swore never to tell another guy that I loved him first, but it came so easily to me, the way touching me comes easily to Oscar.

He slows down but doesn’t stop, looks at me with eyes that have seen too much violence. “Say it again.”

“What?”

“Tell me you love me,” he murmurs into my neck while hitting me deeply in that spot.

“I love you,” I gasp, and his hips move faster, more urgent. We’re both sweaty and moaning, and Oscar sucks on my neck, letting out his frustration and feeling good tonight, better than he had been since we’d been teasing each other all month. When I feel him stiffen, getting closer to his climax, I match him, my body shaking against his. My legs tremble, and I throw my head back feeling all the tension in my body melt against him.

He kisses my neck, marked with his roughness, over and over. My hips are bruised too, from how tightly he held me against him when he finished. “Nena” slips from his mouth, along with words like “love” and “want.” He lies beside me afterwards, holding me close to him while our breathing goes back to a regular pace.

“You really mean it?” he asks me.

I’m assuming he’s talking about what I think he’s talking about. “Yeah.”

“After all these years, you still got a thing for me,” and it sounds more like a statement and not a question.

My face heats up. “Yeah, so?”

He chuckles like he can’t believe he still has a hold of me, even after everything we’d been through. “Damn. You really are down for me.”

“You been knowing that,” I mumble against his chest.

He rubs my thigh, slowly. “Thought you forgot about me.”

“You were my first love; how could I ever forget?” Repeating the words he spoke to me, back at that first party we reunited at.

Oscar grins at me and caresses me in all my sensitive spots, warming me up. We end up on Round 2, Round 3, letting our bodies catch up with each other and he makes me feel so good that I forget some of the many bad things he’s done in his life. He leaves marks all over my body and I pray to a god that if Oscar is the devil himself, then I am a sinner by default, and no amount of saving from Alex can stop me.


	12. Chapter 12

If there was a world record for the shortest amount of time an ex could make you feel both uncomfortable and guilty, Alex had long broken that record. The unfortunate plan before we broke up was to house him in our home for the time being. I still haven't broken the news to my family, and don't intend to until he's gone. It feels like I've been waking up to, breathing, and suffocating at Alex's presence in our home. He sleeps on the sofa, despite Tía Geny's persistence in having Mario sleep on the couch instead. Most times, I wish he'd sleep outside, or in a hotel, somewhere far away from here. Home, even. He should have gone back home.

"Ruby!" I bang on the door to the bathroom. "Would you hurry up, you've been in there for like an hour, already, ay dios mío."

The door opens and I'm about to chew him out, when I see that it's Alex in there instead. My mouth falls silent.

"Hey."

"Hey," I respond. We'd been trying to keep things casual between us so Abuelita wouldn't stir some drama. The moment she catches a good scent of gossip, she's on it like a hound.

"You going somewhere?" Alex asks, because not only am I dressed nice, it's the Fourth of July. But I don't like his tone, the way it feels like I'm required to report to him. Since he'd found out about Oscar, he's been passive aggressive with me, borderline controlling. Maybe this policing thing's gone to his head.

"Out. I need to do my hair."

His gaze finally lands on my shoulder and he sees the fading bruise Oscar left the last time we had sex. A few times. The last time we had sex a few times. I had worn long sleeved tops in the last week, hiding them, but this time I had an off the shoulder top on. The bruise isn't too noticeable, having lightened up, but Alex has 20/20 vision.

Grabbing my wrist, he pulls me to him, "Did he hit you?"

"No," I exclaim, pulling my arm back to me. I flip my hair over the bruise. "God, Oscar wouldn't hit me."

"So, how'd you get that mark?"

"You really wanna know?" I raise a brow at him. Understanding sinks into his expression and he looks put off by me, like I'm filth. Trying to figure out if maybe it would be better if Oscar was abusive to me. The whole time he's been here, he's treated me like I'm somebody new. He tries to convince me Oscar's bad for me, tries to bring back the girl he thought I was, not realizing he'd just been choosing not to see that side of me.

"Bathroom's yours," he mutters, brushing past me. "Your family and I are going to be down by the docks tonight. Fireworks are going off in three hours, if you wanted to spend some time with them."

Alex stays guilt tripping me. Uses family to get me to feel bad and to be away from Oscar. And maybe he's right; I haven't been spending nearly as much time with them these days. Wish I could bring Oscar and my family into the same setting without having to sacrifice one over the other.

"Maybe I'll stop by tonight."

"Ruby misses you too, you know." Ah, I miss him too. He was a punk, sure, but Ruby used to look up to me when he was a kid. And his clever mouth always got me to smile.

"Yeah, I'll probably stop by," I murmur, heating up the curling iron.

Alex shoots me a genuine smile before he leaves, going to meet up with my family at the beach. Tonight, I was headed to a Santo party except the whole neighborhood would be part of it rather than restricted to just Oscar's home. My aunt and uncle didn't want to be in the neighborhood until later, when it dies down. The whole block would be lit with sparklers and fireworks, making a mess of the streets until the city cleans it up a week later. Not like the beach will be any different.

Oscar shows up on time and whistles at me. I kiss his jaw to shut him up.

"You look good, Sylvia."

"Thanks." Turning to him, I ask, "Can you do me a favor, por favor?"

"Anythin' for you," he replies, without even asking. He starts to drive, but I place my hand on his, stopping him. He raises a brow at me.

"Do you think we can maybe, stop by the beach and see my family for a bit? I mean, before we head over to the party?"

"You miss 'em or somethin'? Ain't you live with them?"

Biting my lip, I say, "Yeah, but you know, I haven't spent much quality time with them. I've been with you."

Slowly, he starts to head in the direction of the beach. "Okay, but you sure it's cool if I come?"

I knew it was a bad idea to bring Oscar, considering his involvement with the Santos, and how my family felt about it. Mario not being forced into the gang was relief enough but me dating a gang member in high school terrified them. I'm sure everyone thought I was going to turn into one of them hynas, the way some of the older ladies in the neighborhood gossiped behind their hands at the sight of me. I went everywhere with Oscar, no matter what tattoos were on him. Teachers were most concerned, but my grades never fell below an A-. I made sure to do well in class to make my dad proud, if he was looking down at me from Heaven. If there even was a Heaven in a world that made young boys into soldiers of the street, and girls running around with dead or deadbeat daddies.

Most of all, I was a little more nervous at Oscar and Alex meeting for the first time. I didn't want Oscar to drop me off at the beach and pick me up later because it'd look like I was ashamed of the life he lives. That would only prove Alex's point. I should be able to bring Oscar around without shame, but then why does seeing that teardrop tattoo make me feel more uneasy now than it did at 17?

The beach is packed, families setting up camp along the sand with teenagers leaning over the dock railing dangerously. People were grilling food and Spanish floats over the music, turning this beach into some semblance of home. The sunset paints over everything with an orange pink glow, and nostalgia hits me suddenly. I used to come here with my family when I was a kid. My family being my mom and my dad, when he was alive. My dad and I used to play a game of chase with the water, running out when the ocean pulled the tide back and then seeing if we could outrun it when it came to meet the shore again. My mom used to wrap me snug in towels so I wouldn't get sick from the cold water.

I turn to Oscar, who's already watching me. "You good, nena?"

"Yeah," I bring my hand up to rest against his cheek, forgetting the shame I felt earlier about who he is, and how he'd look to my family. He's just another person who loves the ocean as much as anyone else.

"You actin' kinda weird," he says, giving me a look. "Like, you look a little crazy, you know? Don't know how I feel about bein' seen with you."

I blink. "Pendejo, look at you!"

A smile breaks out on his face when I smack him against the arm. He kisses me full on and I feel my stomach fluttering, light, nervous and calm.

It's not hard to find my family. They have a good spot set up on the dock for when the fireworks go off later. We've sat here numerous times and the view looks like the fireworks are close enough to touch when it cascades down. Part of me is sad I'll be missing out on them this year.

"Sylvia!" Jamal yells out, excited to see me. He rushes over and gives me a huge hug. The last time I've seen him was the night Cesar went missing. Oscar stands awkwardly to the side, trying to look casual. Mostly, he looks like a Santo member. People give him concerned stares and many walk in a wide berth around us.

The rest of my family turn and look surprised to see me, including Alex. He's sitting at the table with a soda in hand when his gaze lingers behind me, on Oscar. I'm starting to hate the neutral expression he's perfected.

My aunt and uncle's faces look horrified at noticing Oscar. They glance at each other, when Abuelita speaks first. "And who's the special guest of honor?"

"Hola, Abuelita, Tía Geny, Tío," Oscar says, voice sounding deeper than I remember. Older than when he first met them at 16 with me. We've known each other all our lives but the Diaz family was reputable for being nothing but trouble to everyone. My aunt would pray for me when she found out I was dating a Santo in high school.

Abuelita covers the lower half of her face with a wide emerald green fan. "How have you been, mijo?"

"Good," he says, like he hasn't gone right back to the Santos after getting out of prison. "The usual."

She raises her brows but doesn't say anything. Mario appears with a bag of charcoal, eyes wide when he looks between me, Oscar, and Alex. Setting it down on the table, he comes over to give Oscar a handshake and they both look at ease with one another. It helps with the tension in the air.

"You guys wanna go down to the water?" Mario asks. "You too, Ruby?"

Ruby looks confused, between Oscar and Alex. "But how?"

"We broke up," I state, in front of everyone. I think I even hear Abuelita gasp. Tía Geny's jaw drops nearly to the ground and Ruby doesn't know what to say. Oscar shifts uncomfortably beside me. Maybe breaking the news like this wasn't the best way to do it, but the words were already out of my mouth.

"Why?" Tía Geny asks, shaken. "Why leave something good for…?" She stops herself, forgetting for a second that Oscar was standing right beside me. Afraid to offend a Santo member.

"We're not even dating," I reply, annoyed. I can feel Oscar's eyes on me, but I don't dare look. We never established anything official, he never asked me to be his again even after the sex, kissing, words of affection. It feels so trivial compared to the bigger picture.

"Oh?" Abuelita inquires.

Ruby is still stuck on Alex and I having broken up. "Wait. So, you're telling me that you and Alex broke up, but he's been at our place this whole time? That's why you two haven't been kissing each other?"

"Well, yeah," I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I wanted to tell you, but you were mad at me."

"Why did you two even break up to begin with? Was it because of Spooky?"

"No," I say. "Things just weren't working out."

Alex stands up suddenly, saying, "Don't worry, Ruby. It had nothing to do with me." He walks right over to Oscar. Oscar has a solid 6 inches over my ex, but Alex is more built, stockier. "So, you're Oscar. My name is Alex."

"I know who you are," Oscar replies, face serious.

It almost looks like a standoff, the way they stare each other down.

"I heard you just got let out of prison. You back to doing Santo shit?"

"Who's askin'?" Oscar uses that tone again, the one that makes him sound more authoritative.

Alex shrugs. "Just trying to find out what she sees in you."

"A lot more than what she see in you."

Alex's jaw twitches, and I grab Oscar's arm. "We should go."

The disapproval comes in waves from my family. They feel like I chose Oscar over Alex, and in some ways, you could say that. Oscar made me feel alive. He made me feel like myself again, like I was actually living instead of going through the motions. There was something real in him that called out to me, real and raw and honest. Even if I did disagree with his choices in life, I couldn't entirely blame him for them.

"I thought you were smarter than this," my uncle murmurs. It comes as a surprise to all of us, knowing how much more understanding my uncle is rather than my aunt. Mario looks at him, brows furrowed. "What would your dad say if he were here, Sylvia? Don't ruin your life over this."

My dad was my uncle's brother, fully related, blood and all. Despite my dad having been the oldest, he was not the serious brother. My dad was passionate about his work, about life. He believed in seeing the best in people, understanding that some things in life were more difficult for others. My dad was a hero in his own right, saving people's lives, working long days at the hospital. It didn't matter if someone overdosed on drugs that night, or if the woman on the corner of the block had blood all over her face from the many times her husband hit her. My dad took care of them, took care of all of them. We are all victims in some way or another of life.

"I'm happy where I'm at," I say. "And I'd like to think my dad would have been more understanding of my choices. How dare you use him against me like that."

"We just want what's best for you," my uncle continues. "You've always been a smart girl."

I open my mouth to say something but Mario interrupts me, "I think it's her decision, alright? She's smart enough to figure things out herself, Dad."

My aunt looks at me with pity. "What about your mom?"

"What about her? She hasn't been in much contact with me." The truth is, she hasn't been the same person since my dad passed away. Losing my dad felt a lot like losing my mom. It almost feels like I don't have a family sometimes. Feels like I lost everything since the accident, even parts of myself I didn't know was missing.

When nobody says anything, I turn to Mario. "We're gonna leave, go back to the neighborhood."

Mario nods. "Catch up with you two later then?"

"Yeah, we'll be there." I reach for Oscar's hand, and when our fingers lace together, his are stiff. He looks far away into the ocean.

"Leaving already?" Alex asks. It was a mistake coming here. I miss spending time with my family, but not like this.

"Yeah," I smile at him. "Going back to my roots. Celebrating things, the old school way."

Oscar and I head to the car. His hand remains stiff in mine, and he's unusually quiet. I can't help but think that maybe it's my fault for putting him into an uncomfortable situation. I should have known better than to bring him around my ex, around Alex. I wish he wasn't here, and I wish Oscar could coexist in peace around my family.

When we get to the car and are on our way back to the block, anger sits on Oscar's shoulders, the tense of his jaw, the way he glares at the road ahead of us. I haven't seen him this upset.

"You know they look down on me and shit," he finally says. "They look down on you too, your own familia look down on you for bein' with me."

"Don't listen to what they have to say," I tell him, remembering the same distant conversation we had when they first found out we were dating. "You know that doesn't change how I feel about you at all."

"But how do you feel about me, Sylvia? You said we wasn't anything back there."

Incredulous, I say, "You never asked me to be anything."

"Guess I just thought we were with you spending nights at my place and us doin' things."

"Are you serious right now?" I scoff. "You ever hear of people being together but not needing a label on it?"

"Is that really us bein' together?"

"You wanna be with me?" I ask, laughing. "You sound like a side chick right now."

Oscar glances at me. "I'm serious about you, nena. When are you ever gonna take me serious?"

"I love you; I tell you that. You know that."

"Alex thinks he got a chance with you."

"No, he doesn't," I say. "Alex is just mad we broke up. He says he loves me still."

"Nah," Oscar says. "You never said we were together in front of him."

"We were holding hands; he saw the hickey you left on me."

"That don't mean nothing if she says she single."

I roll my eyes. "I don't get it. Actions speak louder than words, Oscar."

"Why'd you think I went for you then, huh? You told me you got a boyfriend when you got back but you let me kiss up on you. That don't mean you got a boyfriend, nena."

"No, that makes me a cheater," I sigh, slouching in my seat. "It makes me a bad person."

And in less than a minute, Oscar reminds me why I loved him back then, and even now. "He wasn't doing things right, anyway."

"Oscar, that doesn't excuse my actions. I shouldn't have been that drunk that night."

"I'm glad you were. How's it go? A drunk person speaks sober thoughts or some shit?"

"Something like that," I mutter. Would I have kissed him while sober? I suppose we'll never know. I'd like to say I wouldn't have, that I would have had more self-control. But I'd probably be lying to myself.


End file.
